


You And Me

by kingshultz



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Attempted Murder, Bottom Ian Gallagher, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Boys Kissing, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Heartbreak, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Murder, Original Character(s), Pining, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sad, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Top Ian, Top Mickey Milkovich, also mandy and lip, also smut of course, just so much, very very sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 66,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8290738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingshultz/pseuds/kingshultz
Summary: He's dying. 
He didn't think about everything he failed to accomplish in life, but he more pitied himself for getting nowhere. He had thought of so many magnificent and amazingly bone-chilling ways to die, but instead he ended up with a knife in his gut bleeding out in an alleyway. But what made him hurt the most, as he felt his fingers coat themselves in his own blood, was a certain red-head that held a weird friendship with him.
Gallagher. 
Ian fucking Gallagher.
Mickey knew at that exact moment while his vision blurred and started to fade, that Gallagher was more than a friend. He felt himself smile lopsidedly. Of course. Gallagher. It was him all along. He likes the kid, a lot. Of-fucking-course.
Ian Gallagher...





	1. My Mother Is Back

**Author's Note:**

> This book was originally written by me on Wattpad but I decided to also put it up here because there was just so much love for it. Do not attempt to steal. This book has been copyrighted and should it be posted anywhere else without my consent, you will be fined for stealing.

"Mickey!"

Mickey's head whipped to the sound of Mandy's cry as he let go of the prick he currently was beating the shit out of. "Mandy?!"

Mandy came running from across the L, her face puffy and red as tears streamed quickly. Mickey held his arms out on instinct, sighing when his crying sister fell into them. Mandy rarely ever cried, especially not in front of anyone, so when he sees his sister with waterfalls spilling from her eyes running through the streets Mickey knows something is fucking up.

"She," Mandy gasped, struggling to speak.

"Mandy? What the fuck's up? What's happening?" Mickey asked hurriedly, ignoring the groaning man on the floor.

"She's back!" Mandy wailed, hands clutching to Mickey's muscle shirt tightly. "She- mom is back!"

Mickey's eyes widened as he scoffed. "She's been dead for ten years. You seeing ghosts now or something?"

Mandy slapped Mickey hard in the face, and okay. What the fuck. "You prick! I'm fucking going crazy because Ma is back and you're making me think I'm seeing shit?!"

"Jesus, calm the fuck down!"

"No!" Mandy screamed. "She is back! Come see for yourself, asshole!"

Mickey sighed and gave one last look at the bloody man on the ground. He leaned down and clutched the guy's hair, pulling his head up. "Four hundred, by tomorrow. Or you're fucking dead."

They began walking back to the Milkovich house. Mandy clung to Mickey's side as if he would bolt any second and leave her. He didn't push her away, at least not yet. If her mom thing is a fraud he'll break her nose. "Where did you see her?"

"I just got back from school, went in the house and there she was, on the fucking couch watching TV like she'd been here forever," Mandy replied. Mickey lit a cigarette as she spoke.

"She say anything?"

"I screamed 'what the fuck', took one last look and bolted before she could say anything. Jesus, scariest moment of my life."

Mickey's head started to spin. His mother, Maria, has been dead for ten years. Terry showed them the fucking death certificate and everything. Sure, there was no funeral, but who the fuck bothers with that shit in the south side? Before he knew it, Mickey looked up and saw himself standing ahead of the Milkovich house. He should go to Terry first. He's in jail right now, but Mickey knew he should visit and tell him. Ask him what to do. Iggy and Jamie got caught in a run and are doing time for that. Mickey's alone here. He didn't know what to do. Maria is a tough bitch, nobody fucked with her. Everyone feared her, just like they fear Terry now. She was known as the cunt to not fuck with, and knowing Maria, Mickey could tell she wasn't going anywhere without a fight. Mickey can do a lot of things, but this. This he can't. Not alone.

"Mick," Mandy pushed her brother. "You alive? You zoned out for a while."

"Fuck," Mickey mumbled to himself. He walked up the stairs with a queasy feeling in his stomach. His legs shook as he opened the door slowly and stepped inside, leaving it open. Just in case. He looked at the couch. He was going to throw up, he could feel it. His stomach was a washing machine, flipping nauseously as his legs shook. It's her, it's really fucking her.

Maria looked up from where she sat looking through photos on the couch. She smiled with eyes full of tears at her youngest son. "Micael."

"Don't fucking call me that," Mickey snapped, fists clenching and chest bubbling with anger. "Nobody calls me that anymore."

"Please, baby, let me explain-"

"Explain what?" Mickey spat, glaring at his mother. "You fucking left! You left us with-with him! With Terry! How could you fucking do this?! How the fuck did you sleep at night knowing you left your kids to that son of a bitch?!"

Maria had tears streaming down her face now. "Micael, I know. I just-"

"You don't get to come back here fucking just like that," Mickey growled dangerously. He couldn't help it. He threw his fist into the wall, making a hole in the drywall as he screamed. Maria covered her mouth.

"Stop! Micael, stop right now!"

"You fuck- you bitch!"

Mickey head whipped to the side. His cheek was stinging, he could feel the heat radiating from where Maria slapped him. He looked at her with wide teary eyes. Maria's jaw was clenched but Mickey saw right through her. She didn't know what the fuck she was doing. "Listen to me-"

"Just leave," Mickey said, softer now but with much venom. His hand dropped from where he was clutching his cheek. "Just fucking go and never come back. We're better off without you, Maria."

He turned and left, pushing past a frightened and emotional Mandy.


	2. Red-Headed Freaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fucking Gallagher finds him.

Mickey ran until his thighs burned and calfs felt like they were going to fall off. He stopped, breathing hard as he looked around. He could still feel Maria's slap on his cheek and her piercing voice in his ears. He sunk down on the bleachers of the baseball field he was in. The sun was starting to set. He didn't know how long he sat there, looking off at the sky deep in thought. The air got colder as wind blew, making goosebumps rise on his arms. On auto-pilot his hands pulled a cigarette and lighter from his pockets. His shaky hands held the lighter to the cigarette in his mouth, but the lighter was out of gas. This made Mickey angrier as he threw the piece of shit across the bleachers. "Fuck!"

He heard a low chuckle near him. He turned his head to see some red headed prick sitting a few bleachers up and a few meters away. "Fuck are you laughing at?"

"Need a light?" The kid asked. Mickey recognized him as one of the Gallagher's, the crazy ass family that he didn't fuck around with. They were too happy a family for south siders is what Mickey believed. They were too close and loving. Mickey found himself nodding and watched as Gallagher sat next to him and held his lighter up, lighting the cigarette for Mickey while he still held it in his mouth. Mickey pulled away after inhaling as Gallagher put the lighter back in his pocket.

"You come here often?" Gallagher asked, making conversation. Mickey snorted and puffed angrily.

"Only when red-headed freaks ain't here," Mickey replied smartly making Ian laugh. "Looks like I chose the wrong time."

"Well, the red-headed freak lit your cigarette," Ian laughed. "Why you here?"

"You always ask this many questions, Gallagher?" Mickey snapped, looking the kid in the eye.

Ian shrugged, feeling small under Mickey's stare. "Only when I'm curious. By the way, how did you know I'm a Gallagher?"

"There's so fucking many of you, you guys are kind of hard to miss." Mickey looked back at the empty field. "I used to be friends with your bro Lip back in middle school."

"No shit," Ian said, surprised. "Well, I'm Ian. And you're the dangerous Mickey Milkovich."

"Damn right."

They sat in silence for a while, Ian's leg bouncing up and down nervously while Mickey relieved his nerves through his cigarette. "So," Ian broke the silence. "Why are you here?"

Mickey sighed, tapping the ash off the cigarette. The kid wasn't gonna let it go, that's for sure. He might as well tell him, he looks like a trustworthy kid. Not that Mickey should ever trust anyone, because the last time he did that the person ran away for ten years claiming they were fucking dead. "My, uh. My mom came back."

"Maria Milkovich?" Ian asked. Mickey nodded, running his thumb over his bottom lip nervously. "Never met her. Only heard about her. Thought she was dead?"

"Me too," Mickey admit quietly. He laughed dangerously. "Bitch leaves for ten years saying she was dead, then comes back expecting us to play house like she didn't fucking disappear."

"Shit," Ian said softly. "My mom left too. Except I don't know if she's dead or alive, and I don't really give a fuck."

Mickey snorted. "I hate Maria, I fucking hate her. She's gonna fuck everything up, I know it. I can feel it in me that she's gonna become her old bitchy self again and order us around and ruin everything. It's already fucking bad, the last thing I needed was this and I got it. Fuck this shit."

Ian listened to every word Mickey said. "Other than leaving, what else did she do to you that was so- that was so bad?"

Mickey sat quietly, thinking silently.   
"She came back," he exhaled smoke. "That's what else she did."

Ian let out a long breath. "So, what are you gonna do now?"

"If I knew that I wouldn't be here right now," Mickey snapped. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and flicked his cigarette away. "Gotta find a place to stay for the night. Ain't no way I'm going back there to that crazy bitch."

"You can stay at mine," Ian said quickly. Mickey raised his eyebrow questionably at the boy's enthusiasm. Ian chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, if you want."

Mickey thought for a second and rubbed his eyes stressfully. "Alright. I'll take the offer."

Ian stood up, holding a hand out for Mickey. Mickey took it appreciatively and stretched as he stood. The two began walking silently, Mickey following Ian to his house. "So," Ian said conversationally yet again, this time in a teasing voice whilst shoving his hands in his pockets. "Does this make us friends?"

Mickey snorted, swiping his thumb across his bottom lip. "Fuck you is what this makes us."

Ian stopped at Kash 'n Grab for some reason, making Mickey furrow his eyebrows and pull on the kid's elbow. "What we doing here?"

"I'm applying for this job," Ian said, hand on the door. "I need the money, like real bad."

"Can this wait until tomorrow?" Mickey moaned tiredly. "I'm fucking beat."

Ian felt the corners of his lips tug upwards at the way Mickey yawned adorably. Shit, imagine the pain if he spoke out loud. "I don't wanna lose the chance, just wait out here if you want."

"In the fucking cold? On my rotting body, Gallagher."

They entered the store, and there's no way Mickey missed the way the man at the cash's eyes widened at the sight of Ian. Clearly, he's had his eyes on Ian for a while. Mickey didn't know why, but this made him... Jealous? Protective? Who knows. He's got too much shit going on in his head right now.

A woman with a head scarf emerged from the back room with a box of fruit. She raised her eyebrows at Mickey and Ian. She was obviously a strong, confident lady. It made Mickey chuckle inwardly at the way he saw the guy at the counter's shoulders tense in fear.

"Hi, my name is Ian Gallagher. I heard about a job opening here," Ian said way too professionally for a job at a grocery store. "I wanted to apply."

"Linda," the woman introduced herself. "Kash," she nudged towards the man at the counter. Mickey snorted loudly, causing all attention to turn on him. Linda raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"He ain't learn how to use his mouth yet or somethin'?" Mickey wondered out loud, proud at the double-entendra.   
He smirked when Ian glared at him.

He expected Linda to throw them out or something, make a commotion since her husband looked too pussy to do it, but instead she grinned, almost laughing at Mickey's words. Kash scoffed and marched to the back room. Linda set the box she was holding down, and examined the two. "Alright. You're hired. We need hands here soon as possible. Be here by noon tomorrow."

"Thanks," Ian grinned. Linda wasn't finished, she eyed Mickey as well.

"How about you, huh? We do need some protection around here," She offered, making Mickey raise his eyebrows. He glanced at Gallagher who shrugged, leaving it up to him. Getting this job meant more time with Ian, and as much as Mickey wished that would displease him it only made him more excited. Plus, he got to keep an eye on whatever that Kash pervert would try on Ian. And for higher measures, he's gonna need to money. Win-win? He shrugged carelessly.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," Mickey said, turning around. "Can't hold a job for shit though."

They left the store together, both secretly intrigued by whatever was going to come next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment, vote and share. i will love u forever thank you


	3. Oops, that slipped.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The name Firecrotch is invented.

"Where's your family?" Mickey asked after they had entered the house. Ian led him to the kitchen and pulled out two beers from the fridge, passing one to Mickey. "Isn't there fuckin'... Fourteen of you or some shit?"

"Fiona's at work, Lip's probably fuckin' some girl, Debs is most likely with Liam doing god knows what and Carl's probably blowing some shit up."

Mickey snorts amusedly and sips his beer, not before yawning dramatically. "Fuck, I'm beat. Wanna show me where to sleep, Firecrotch?"

Maybe it was the tiredness, or the over bearing stress of the day, or his girly ass hormones that led him to nonchalantly come up with that nickname. But now, as Ian reddens and raises a joyful eyebrow at the name, Mickey doesn't find himself to regret saying that word. Ian led him up the stairs, the grin never leaving his face.

When they reached his room, Ian laid a blanket on the ground with a pillow, throwing another blanket on top. "There ya go."

"Thanks," Mickey grumbled tiredly. He dropped down almost immediately after Ian stepped away and shut his eyes, trying to will himself to fall asleep. It was hard, since every time his eyes shut he saw Maria's face and the sound of her ear-piercing voice. He heard the lights click shut and the squeak of a bed as Ian dropped onto his. It wasn't long before Mickey could hear the soft snores from Ian's mouth. He felt something brush the side of his face and he looked up quickly, seeing Ian's arm dangling from the edge of the bed. "Fuckin' A, Gallagher."

It wasn't long before Mickey felt asleep to the sound of Ian's breathing and occasional brush against his shoulder.

•

•

•

"Mickey..."

Mickey grunted and turned his head around, pressing himself further into the pillow.

"Mickey, wake the fuck up. I'm actually going to splash water on you."

"Choose a burial spot first," Mickey grumbled tiredly. He was just woken from a real good sleep and he is fucking ready to slice whatever is near him.

"Fiona wants to talk to you."

Mickey opened his eyes and looked up, squinting at Ian. He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He forgot he was here. With a groan he sat up and leaned against Ian's bed. "Alright, I'm fucking rise-ed and shining. Can I take a piss first?"

Ian smiled lopsidedly. "Go ahead."

After his tiring journey from inside to the outside of the bathroom, Mickey found himself sitting at a kitchen table making intense eye contact with a toddler. He raised an eyebrow, the kid copying him. He raised his arm and set it on the table, the kid copied him. Just as he was about to make a scene Fiona waltzed inside the kitchen, looking hungover and as if she needed to sleep for about two months. She plucked the kid off the chair by his armpits. "Go play in your room, Liam."

Liam, Mickey thought as he eyed the kid who stared back before running up the stairs. Liam. He looked back towards Fiona who was watching him intently. "Need a fucking picture?"

"Need to know what's going on," Fiona said as she took a seat on Liam's previous spot. Mickey felt intimidated under her stare, but weirdly also safe. Not in the protecting kind of way, but rather the trusting. He shuffled awkwardly in his chair, not making eye contact. Fiona sighed when she realized Mickey wasn't going to say anything. "Look, it isn't everyday we get a Milkovich in our house asking for a place to stay."

"You don't want me here then feel free to tell me to fuck off and I'll be on my way," Mickey snapped defensively, causing Fiona to shake her head.

"No, Mickey. Ian told me a little bit about why you're staying here and I just want you to know," Fiona began speaking more loudly when Mickey scoffed at her words. "Sitting around here is not going to stop your mother from doing whatever the hell she's planning."

"What are you talking about?"

"Words out that Maria Milkovich is looking for you right now," Fiona informed. "Saw her today on my way home from talking to Carl's teacher after I dropped him and Debs to school. She asked if I saw you anywhere."

"Fuck did you say?"

"I said no, using my better instinct. Mickey, I was around when your mom was here. I remember the shit she pulled and I'm not saying you're putting my family in danger, but we both know damn well Maria will do anything to get what she wants."

"I just needed to stay here a few days to get my head straight," Mickey sighed, placing his elbows on the table and dropping his head into his hands. "Isn't it just fucking amazing she chose now to fuck it all up?"

"I thought the exact same thing when Monica came back," Fiona mumbled. Mickey looked up with a raised eyebrow. "My mom. She just fucking shows up one day trying to play family like she didn't walk out on us."

It's like Fiona was taking words out of Mickey's mouth. "Exactly."

"What about Mandy? Or your other siblings?" Fiona asked. "Don't you want them to be with you? Who knows what Maria could be doing to them."

"If she's smart she won't put a hand on them," Mickey said before groaning in realization. "Fuck. Iggy gets out of jail today, if he doesn't fuck her up I don't know who will."

"You can bring them here," Fiona said. "You guys can take the basement long as you dust it off a lil' bit and move some shit around. Also might need to pitch in for the extra mouth's to feed."

"Thanks," Mickey said with a small grin. He stood up from the table and brushed his jeans off, a sign of nervousness. "I'm gonna go get Iggy before he beats the shit out of... Maria hopefully."

Without hearing another word, Mickey walked to the door with a weird, hole like feel in his chest. He heard footsteps behind him, and soon he was looking Ian in the face. "Hey, um," Ian started awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Mickey raised his eyebrows expectantly. "We're supposed to be at work in two hours, but if today isn't a good day, we could-"

"Don't worry, I'll be back before then," Mickey grunted out as he left the house. He didn't want to leave like that but he had to get back home before Mandy got into trouble. He honestly couldn't give less of a shit about his other siblings, but he didn't want to let them get fucking brainwashed by Maria or anything before it was too late. He finished two cigarettes by the time he reached his home. He looked at the half open door, feeling his heart start to thump a thousand miles a second when he heard shouting. He quickly ran up the porch stairs and bolted inside, pulling Iggy back just before he threw a punch at Maria.

"Jesus, Iggy!" Mickey yelled, holding his brother back as Mandy watched horrified behind them. Maria's eyes were filled with tears, but the way her jaw was set tight said otherwise. "Calm the fuck down!"

"Fuck you! You don't get to come back just like that! Fucking wait until Terry comes out, he'll beat your fuckin' head in!" Iggy shouted at Maria, voice cracking as his overwhelmed sight began to tumble in front of them all. Mickey's heart broke into pieces when a tear slipped down Iggy's face. Iggy doesn't cry. That's not his thing. No.

"Stop, all of you!" Maria screamed. "I'm your fucking mother!"

"You ain't shit, bitch," Iggy hissed, wiping that tear away as if it was venom. He spat in Maria's direction, not struggling against Mickey anymore. "You wasn't here when we needed you, fuck you here now for? We ain't got use for you anymore."

Iggy turned and walked outside, not without sending another punch to the wall. Mandy watched Mickey with terrified eyes, before stoning up and facing Maria. "Just a little too fucking late, Ma."

Mickey side eyed Maria as Mandy followed Iggy out the door. He was breathing hard, feelings his senses crumble at the sight of Maria staring so helplessly at him. "Just leave, Ma. Just go. We don't need you."

He turned towards the door. "You won't take my kids from me." He heard Maria say dangerously.

"They ain't yours anymore," Mickey replied softly. "You lost them a long time ago, Maria."


	4. Colin Milkovich, eldest of 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey goes to see his eldest brother Colin- in a place that brings horrible memories.

Mickey flipped through the magazine too quickly to be actually reading it, which caught Ian's attention as he stocked fruit. Linda had left to get her kids a while ago, Kash was probably on his ass somewhere in the back leaving Ian and Mickey to run the store. So far it was going smoothly, but Ian couldn't help but want to ask so many questions though he knew Mickey would snap if he said anything.

"You reading that or just ruining it?" He decided to say with a teasing smirk as he set the empty box down, taking his spot at the cash as a customer walked in. Mickey snorted and dropped the magazine lazily back on the rack.

"Nothing but photoshop and bullshit drama anyways," Mickey replied, picking up another. Ian caught a glimpse at the cover -Gun's Galore- before Mickey began flipping quickly through that as well.

"What's up?" Ian asked quietly, causing Mickey to raise his head and an eyebrow questionably. "I mean- you alright?"

"Fucking shining, thanks," Mickey said a little too sarcastically. Ian sighed and remembered back at the sight of Mandy and Iggy Milkovich entering his house, rough housing their way to the basement as Mickey kept his cold eyes down on the ground. He heard shouts from the basement, and it wasn't long after that Mickey came upstairs looking tired and worn out as fuck before tugging on Ian's arm mumbling about money as he dragged him to Kash 'n Grab.

Mickey moved out of the way as Ian scanned the customer's items, then watched coldly as the customer left. "Where the fuck is Kash 'n Grab, huh? Why we doing all the work while his ass jerks off in the back?"

"Whatever, who gives a shit," Ian said, secretly happy Kash wasn't around so he could talk to Mickey.

"Pussy," Mickey snapped towards no one in particular. He threw the magazine back on the rack. "Fuck."

"What happened?" Ian asked, leaning over the counter slightly to look down at Mickey's hand which he was hiding. Mickey was quiet though, and it was only then that Ian realized Mickey was staring out the store window, watching his eldest brother Jamie walk to the door quickly. The door opened as Jamie walked inside, a cigarette between his lips as he scratched his small beard and stared down Mickey. He didn't even acknowledge the fact that Ian was there as he stubbed his cigarette on the counter. "Ma's been worried."

"I fucking bet she is," Mickey snorted dryly, looking away from Jamie and back at another random magazine he plucked from the rack  
"I fucking bet she is," Mickey snorted dryly, looking away from Jamie and back at another random magazine he plucked from the rack. Jamie stepped closer.

"Where's Iggy? Mandy?"

"I don't know," Mickey lied smoothly.

"Fuck this Mickey, I just got out of prison. You think I ain't surprised either?" Jamie said loudly, slamming a hand down on the magazine, stopping Mickey from continuing his useless flipping. Jamie's icy blue eyes met Ian's dangerously as he growled. "Fuck off. Need some brother time."

Ian nodded quickly and hopped off his stool, wandering towards the back. Mickey cleared his throat and ripped the magazine from under his big brother's hand, setting it back where it belonged. "I know you're gonna fucking stand with her, Jamie. And I ain't gonna be there for your ass when she decided to shoot up the town. Again."

"She said she's changed."

"People say a lot of fucking things," Mickey spat. "You know she'll do anything to get our asses in line before Terry gets out and beats her face in."

"Oh yeah, shit," Jamie sighed under his breath.

"You always had a weak spot for Ma," Mickey said to his brother as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look James, if your just gonna stand here and bitch about Ma quit wasting time and fuck off."

"Fucking hell Mickey, let's just sort this shit out now."

Ian peeked from the back where he hid his body slightly as he watched the scene unravel ahead of him. He watched as Mickey sighed dramatically but listened to whatever his brother was saying to him. Just as Jamie began to speak again, this time in a lower voice, Ian felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around quickly to see Kash smirking almost bashfully, his cheap flip phone in one hand as his other supported his body against the wall. Ian raised an eyebrow and moved away slightly.

"What's up?" Kash asked, in a horrible attempt of cockiness. "Trouble out front?"

Not like you could do anything about it. "Nope. Just getting more boxes."

"Really? That's all, huh?"

"Am I supposed to be doing something else?" Ian asked, crossing his arms. "That's what Linda told me to do, so."

"Yo, Gallagher!"

Ian almost laughed at the way Kash visibly stiffened at Mickey's voice and moved away from Ian, dipping out of the garage door and outside. Ian poked his head back out to see Mickey standing near the door, locking it. "Yeah?"

"Where's brown ass?" Mickey asked, giving one last look through the door before turning around.

"He just left, I think," Ian replied, confused as to what Mickey was doing. "Why'd you lock the door?"

"We gotta go run an errand," Mickey said quickly, swiping his thumb against his bottom lip nervously. He met Ian's eyes briefly before walking towards him. "You comin'?"

"If Linda comes back we're fucked," Ian said. Mickey stopped a meter from Ian and sighed as he rubbed the lines on his forehead stressfully.

"Man, fuck Linda. I need your help," Mickey replied almost desperately. "It's fucking Kash's store. He'll be fine without us for a god damn minute."

"Okay, fine," Ian gave in, not being able to help it. Mickey let out a relived breath and quickly grabbed his and Ian's jacket as they left through the back. Ian hurried along with Mickey, who was rummaging for a cigarette as they walked to wherever Mickey was taking them. "Mick. Mickey. Where are we going?"

"Jail," Mickey replied bluntly, inhaling the nicotine deeply. Ian faltered in his step a little bit as he thought about who Mickey was going to see in prison. His brothers were both out, which only meant one thing. Terry. Ian shuddered as he jogged to Mickey's side again.

"You're gonna see Terry?"

Mickey grunted in reply. He stopped at the L, where he finally passed the cigarette to Ian. Ian smiled thankfully and inhaled deeply, breathing out through his nose. He turned to see Mickey looking extremely nervous, which was kind of fucking rare for a Milkovich. "You alright there, Mick?"

Mickey caught the smugness in Ian's voice and felt a smirk pull at his lip. "Fuck you, man. I'm not really fuckin' welcomed in prison."

"I wonder why," Ian replied sarcastically. He gave the cigarette back to Mickey as the train pulled up.

 

-

 

-

 

Mickey tentatively picked up the phone, so not used to being the one visiting instead the one wearing orange and looking into pity filled eyes. The only person who ever really visited him whenever he got thrown into juvie was Mandy, and occasionally Iggy updating him on stuff. Jamie didn't really have time for that shit, and Colin probably forgot any of his siblings even existed.

Until now.

Mickey watched as Colin sunk down on the chair with a bored expression, which completely changed when he saw his youngest brother. Mickey refrained from looking at Ian sitting behind him, who no doubt was probably pissing his pants at the sight of Colin Milkovich, the eldest Milkovich and maybe the most dangerous sibling. He got caught for attempted murder during a drug run, which got him fifteen years when he was twenty eight.

It's been eleven years.

Eleven years since Mickey last saw or even heard from Colin.

And now he was sitting in front of him with a jittery leg, and his stomach feeling like four tsunamis were washing over him. Colin slowly picked up the phone. His green eyes were as wide as saucers as he pressed the phone to his ear. "M-Mickey?"

Mickey closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath at the sound of his brother's voice, which had changed so fucking much in eleven years. He never needed Colin before, that's why he never visited, that's why he pretended not to give a fuck when his best friend and mentor was thrown behind bars for fifteen fucking years. Fifteen. "Colin."

"Jesus fuck, Mick?" Colin gasped with a airy smile. Mickey felt his self control breaking down when Colin's eyes teared up. "You- you're so grown up now, Micael."

"You too, man," Mickey replied, trying to keep his quivering voice still. Colin had obviously grown some wrinkles, he was fucking thirty nine now for gods sake, but his tattoos, the tall and strong body, it was all still there. Mickey looked back up at Colin and his pale face, watery green eyes and perfect fucking smile that Mickey always envied. Mickey felt a frown pull at his face as his chest felt like fireworks bursting when he saw tears slip down Colin's face. Colin had the phone pressed to his mouth, face turning red as he let out a short sob, staring at his baby brother.

Colin had the phone pressed to his mouth, face turning red as he let out a short sob, staring at his baby brother

Mickey felt himself choke up. He's never seen this. He's never seen his brother, any of his brothers cry since they hit puberty. The last time Mickey cried in front of someone was when he was five, while watching cops pull Colin away and shove him into a car like he was some fucking animal and not a human. Mickey cried and cried, and when Terry came home hearing the news that his eldest son got caught, no doubt he took it off on Mickey when he saw him crying. Mickey still had the fracture in his leg from the beating he got.

Colin just stared at Mickey and said nothing. It seemed that Colin couldn't care less that he was crying, and it made Mickey feel warm. Colin didn't care if someone saw him crying for his brother.

Colin didn't care if someone saw him crying for his brother

But it was something else for Mickey. He pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes and looked back up at his brother. Fucking Ian was behind him, he couldn't let him see Mickey crying. Colin was stuck in his own world, not giving a single fuck about everyone else around him as he just... admired Mickey with teary eyes. He always knew Mickey would come back to see him, he always knew. And now here he is.

"I- uh, I need your help," Mickey said, breaking the silence between them. Colin blinked and wiped his eyes with his tattooed hands.

"Anything, Mick," he replied quickly. Mickey felt his heart clench. Colin chuckled awkwardly. "Not a lot I can do in here, though. But I heard of some people-"

"How much longer, man?" Mickey couldn't help but ask, almost desperately. Colin stopped talking and stared at his brother. Mickey's leg began shaking as that disgusting feeling settled in his stomach again. "W-when the fuck are you coming home?"

"Soon, Mickey," Colin replied sternly, eyes boring into Mickey's with that soft yet menacing voice that caused so many problems for everyone. "Soon."

"Maria's back," Mickey blurted. Colin's eyes began to widen again. "That's why I'm here. I don't know what else to do. She's fucking back from the dead and ready to ruin our god damn lives. I got Mandy and Iggy staying at a friend's house, but Jamie's always been up Ma's ass and being a bitch. What the fuck do I do?"

Colin rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed at every word Mickey said. "Fuck. Knew this was gonna happen."

"What? What was gonna happen?"

Colin looked Mickey in the eye, and that's when Mickey knew. He knew what Colin was going to say. The words were fucking tattooed on Colin for Christ's sake. He almost said it with Colin as his brother replied. "Bitches don't keep promises."


	5. Wait For Terry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wait for Terry.

"You knew about this shit?" Mickey asked into the phone loudly, holding it closer to his mouth. "You fucking knew she was alive?"

"Calm down, wasn't like I could tell you anyway."

Mickey raised his eyebrows and scoffed. "Yes, you fucking could! You ain't been gone forever, asshole!"

"Watch your fucking tone," Colin said calmly, only lowering his voice enough to send chills down Mickey's back. The reason people in the southside feared Colin wasn't because of his last name or his father's reputation, but because of the self control he has over himself. It scares everybody, even Terry, how self controlled and calm this kid was about everything. Colin didn't shout. He didn't need to. He hits, that's what he does. He never makes other people do his responsibilities. Its why he grew up with only two friends; Jamie and occasionally Terry. Colin's killed three guys at once, fucking right in front of sixteen year old Jamie and never got caught for it. He wants the best for the people he loves, for his siblings. Jamie was never supposed to see him shoot down three guys, but it just happened. He was there. And when Colin turned around and saw his teenage brother, he calmly told him to leave and pretend he saw nothing. And that's what Jamie did, because Colin is always right.

That's why Mickey came to him. There's never been a time where Colin was wrong. Everything he says makes sense. He told Mickey the cops were coming to get him before they arrived, because he knew he fucked up. Colin isn't afraid to admit it when he fucks something up. Mickey's never looked up to someone so much before. Even at that young age Mickey remembers how valuable everything Colin said was.

"Well?" Mickey asked, fidgeting in his seat after the small discipline from his brother.

Colin leaned back in his seat as much as he could with the cord of the phone. "Ma got busted for murdering some chick in the Alibi a few years before she "died". She wasn't about to get locked up for the rest of her life so Terry and I made a whole fake death story shit and told her to fuck off, and go to Canada or some shit. She promised she wouldn't come back, but clearly she did. She cant stay away from you guys. She came back a week before I got busted. I called her out, gave her an earful and told her to leave before I called the cops. She caught feels and left. She called the cops and told them anonymously about my drug run."

"Wait, so it's her fault you're in here?" Mickey asked. Colin shrugged and nodded. "Fuck, I'm gonna fucking kill her."

"No, you won't," Colin said. Mickey snorted and rolled his eyes which made Colin lean forward with that serious face he always kept and stare into Mickey's eyes. "If I wanted her dead, that would've been done by now."

"You know what you can do?" Mickey asked in a low voice. "Snitch her out for killing the lady. That'll get you out early and her ass in here for the rest of her life."

"Then she'll snitch on me for killing three guys," Colin replied simply, as if he'd already thought that threw a million times. He caught Mickey's look of confusion and shrugged. "Jamie told her."

"Wha- you serious? Didn't I tell you he's up Ma's ass?"

"He used to tell her everything, he trusted her," Colin said, tapping his fingers against the bottom off the glass separating him and his brother. "She wasn't that bad."

"Fuck her. Tell me, what should I do?"

"Lay low," Colin meant Mickey's eyes seriously. "For a while. A couple weeks. Don't let her find out where you and the others are staying. If Jamie's up her ass so be it, you don't help him. Terry's getting out next week, he'll keep Ma busy."

"How the fuck is any of that gonna help?"

"Because I said it will." As if on cue, the buzzer rang as Mickey's stomach dropped. Colin sighed and gave his brother a weak smile. "I'll be alright. See you later, Mick."

"Yeah," Mickey whispered. He kept his eyes on Colin's chair as his brother got up, put the phone back on the receiver and walked back to the guards waiting. He sat for a minute, just trying to ignore the fact that he was already starting to miss Colin again. He snapped out of his trance and set the phone back, standing up and coming face to face with Ian.

"Jesus-"

"Explain everything," Ian demanded. His eyes softened when he could tell Mickey had been crying. "Please."

 

-

 

 

-

 

"Fifteen years?" Ian asked quietly. He listened to Mickey's shallow breathing as he swished the beer in his bottle around. "Shit."

Mickey had his eyes closed and head back against the freshly cut grass on the baseball field. He was on his back, knees bent. Ian was next to him, having just heard the whole recap of what happened with Colin at the jail. He was leaning against the gate of the dugouts, upper half of his body by Mickey's legs while he stretched out one of his legs by Mickey's head and bent the other. He felt a smirk pull at his lips. "Y'know, Fiona dated Colin for a few weeks when they were in high school."

Mickey made a loud snoring sound that made Ian laugh as he bumped his knee against Mickey's. "What about you?" Mickey asked suddenly. Ian stopped laughing and raised an eyebrow, looking at Mickey who still had his eyes closed. Mickey took the silence as Ian not understanding the question. "I mean, you ever fuckin' dated a chick before?"

Ian grimaced at they way Mickey said chick like there was no other possibility. "Yeah."

"Bullshit," Mickey called loudly, a smirk on his lips. He opened his eyes and sat up, twinkling eyes looking into Ian's. "You're lying, asswipe."

"The fuck do you know?" Ian asked, getting defensive. He tossed the beer bottle in his hands away, avoiding Mickey's eyes. "I got sucked off. By Karen Jackson."

"Karen Slutson?" Mickey asked with impressed eyebrows. "Batty Sheila's kid? Not bad, Gallagher. Thought she was fucking your brother."

"She is," Ian smirked, though feeling like shit inside. It's not like he was lying, Lip did let Karen try to suck his brother straight, but it was that he was pushing the straight kid act. Mickey slapped Ian's knee approvingly and laid back down.

"You see anythin' in Mandy?"

Ian chuckled awkwardly. "I see her around school and stuff. Don't really talk."

"Oh, sure," Mickey scoffed. "I see the way you eye my sis, man."

"Can we change the subject?" Ian whined. 

 

-

 

 

-

 

"The fuck have you been?" Mandy hissed as soon as Mickey returned. Mickey rolled his eyes and dropped his jacket on the Gallagher couch. "I had to make dinner with a little red head girl."

"I got a fucking job to keep your fat asses full," Mickey bit back, watching as Ian jogged up the stairs. "Where's Iggy?"

"He met up with some friends or some shit," Mandy said whilst walking back to the kitchen. Mickey side eyed Ian's little sister who was stirring something in a pot with her back to the two Milkovich's. "How long we staying here?"

"Until Maria fucks off," Mickey spat. He glared at Liam who was staring at him from the table before running up the stairs exhaustedly. He ran into Lip on the way, who was walking around shirtless. "Jesus, put a fucking shirt on, fag."

"Hello to you too," Lip said distractedly as he rummaged through laundry. He pulled out the shirt Ian had worn yesterday and slipped it on. "Welcome to the Gallagher house."

Mickey pulled a face and looked towards where Ian shuffled into the bathroom. He sighed and turned back around, following Lip down the stairs. He went to the front, closing the door behind him as he felt the chilly air blow over him. He sunk down on the porch and pulled out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He prepared himself for a dinner of nicotine as he smoked away.

By the time Fiona had reached home from work, she froze when she saw Mickey on the porch staring off into the night with cigarette stubs littered around him. Fiona silently walked up the stairs and sunk down next to Mickey, keeping a distance between them. She knew this wasn't something Mickey was used to, and that's why she spoke softly yet with determination to let Mickey know she wasn't here to baby him around instead of helping him. "You see Maria?"

"Yeah," Mickey replied, tapping the ash off the cigarette. "Just before Iggy knocked her teeth out."

"Oh," Fiona said. "Well, that's good."

"Yeah," Mickey chuckled bitterly. "Rather leave that to Terry."

Fiona sighed and placed her satchel in her lap. "When's he getting out?"

"Next week. Three days if they give him the early release."

"That a good thing?"

"You tell me. He'll either knock the shit out of Maria or re-marry her. Depends what kind of mood he's in."

"So what if he does nothing?" Fiona asked, turning her body towards Mickey. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Huh? What's gonna happen then?"

"We'll pack our shit and leave."

"Where?"

"Wherever the fucking wind takes us, I don't know!" Mickey yelled. He dug the heel of his hands into his eyes and sighed loudly. "Maria ain't good for south side. I ain't staying here while she goes bat shit crazy again."

"This puts my family in danger, too," Fiona pressed, staring at the side of Mickey's face. "Frank has fucked with Maria enough times. And Monica almost killed her. She already doesn't like us."

"Do you want me to leave?" Mickey laughed confusedly. He finally turned his head and met Fiona's eyes. "You fucking asked me to stay here. It's not like I decided-"

"We'll help," Fiona interrupted. She shuffled closer to Mickey. "Ian and Lip, we can do something to get rid of Maria if Terry doesn't. Or if Terry does, we'll help. Either way, we got nothing to lose."

Mickey went silent for a minute as he thought. He turned his head away from Fiona and stared at the stray dogs barking as they wandered the streets. He finally nodded and flicked his cigarette away. "Okay. Fine. Let's just wait for Terry."

Fiona nodded. "Okay."


	6. Looks like Kash really has been grabbing, huh?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey finds out a secret about Kash.

It's been four days.

Mickey doesn't really know how he's managed to survive in the Gallagher house, but when you get used to the constant loudness and walking in on people fucking, it really isn't that bad.

Even Mandy and Iggy lightened up to the family. Iggy never really stuck around at first, but now he doesn't really mind the little kid Carl. They hang out a lot. Mandy and Debbie braid each other's hair and talk about boys. And Mickey and Ian? They've been attached at the hip for the last four days. Never leaving one another's side. Mickey's really started to enjoy the red head's presence. Plus, they haven't heard from Maria or Jamie.

"Hey Mick," Ian asked as they stood at the Kash 'N Grab, which was surprisingly almost empty for a Friday evening. Mickey looked up at Ian from where he was putting oranges on the shelf. Ian was just putting his jacket on and staring down at his phone screen. "Linda just texted me and said to pick up the shipments from Willie's. Think you can watch the store for a few minutes?"

"Whatever," Mickey replied, which meant a yes. Ian smiled and left the store. Mickey went to the back after the red head was out of view and lit up a cigarette. He watched some dumb kids trade drugs, trying to hide it but failed miserably. He snorted at the way they froze when a cop car drove by. He heard what sounded like the freezer door shut and raised his eyebrows.

"Back already?" He mumbled to himself. He turned around and shrugged, letting Ian stock the shit in the freezer alone. His hands still felt clammy from all the fucking fruit he stocked. He finished his cigarette, taking his dear time. He laughed to himself lowly when he saw a kid get smacked in the face with a basketball. He turned around and walked back inside, furrowing his eyebrows when he didn't see Ian anywhere. Again, he shrugged and went to the freezer doors for a beer. When he leaned down to take a bottle he choked, almost shitting himself when he saw two guys fucking. He gasped and smirked, closing the door quietly and sneaking to the larger freezer door. He looked through the window to see Kash taking it up the ass from some dude.

"Hello," he said conversationally, a cocky smirk on his face as he leaned against the door. The man fucking Kash looked up surprisedly and pulled out, quickly pulling his pants up as he pushed past Mickey and out the door. Mickey was still staring with a smirk at Kash when the door jingled shut. Kash had his pants back up and the most worried look on his face. "Ple-"

"Save it, brown ass," Mickey snorted. "Always knew you were a fag."

Kash's mouth opened and shut like a fish. "Linda doesn't-"

"I realized."

"I didn't know you were-"

"No shit."

Suddenly the door opened again and Mickey bent his neck to see Ian entering whilst shuffling his jacket off his shoulders. He grinned when he saw Mickey, but it wiped away when he got closer and just saw Kash standing there looking like he was shitting his pants. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Kash said quickly.

Mickey raised his eyebrows amusedly but played along anyway. "Yeah, nothing. Was just telling Kash 'N Grab here to start helping out around the place, ain't that right?"

"That's right," Kash replied hesitantly. He wiped his hands on his jean clad thighs and took one last look at Mickey before leaving the freezer. Ian raised his eyebrows amusedly at Mickey once Kash was out of sight and laughed.

"Okay, then," he snorted, walking back to the cash. "Help me unload the truck, alright?"

-

 

-

 

"Hey!" Mickey yelled at Ian who was rushing in the opposite direction of the Gallagher house quickly. "The fuck are you going?!"

"Gotta run a quick errand!" Ian replied as he began jogging backwards, waving to Mickey. "You head home! Don't worry about me!"

Mickey sighed as Ian turned back around and ran faster. He just realized that he didn't really know half the shit that was going on in Ian's life. Ian basically knew a lot about him so far, a lot more than a lot of people would find out in a week. Mickey shrugged the stress of that off of his shoulders, he didn't have time nor patience to worry about that. Instead he turned into the corner leading to the Gallagher street, and barely felt the body push him up against the wall.

"Jesus fuck!" Mickey yelled as his back collided roughly with the brick wall. He looked up to see a hooded man holding a knife in the air.

"Mickey Milkovich, aren't ya?" The man growled menacingly, making Mickey scrunch his nose at the vile smell from the man's breath. Just as Mickey was to push him away he felt the knife press against his neck. He swallowed, feeling his fear rise when he realized he had nowhere to go. Nobody was going to save him.

"Fuck you, fuck do you want?" Mickey spat, struggling against the wall. "You're making a big fucking mistake."

"Your brothers gonna come out to get me?" The man teased in a whiny voice. He laughed and pressed his forearm against Mickey's neck, choking him. Mickey's arms came up and gripped the man's arms as he choked and struggled more. "They don't give a shit about you."

"F-fuck," Mickey sputtered. He felt it, deep in his stomach as his breathing cut off. There was no oxygen in him. This is it.

He felt a sharp stinging feel against just above his abdomen as he screamed. Soon his screams turned to a gurgling sound of blood coming out as the man laughed darkly and let Mickey go, watching Mickey drop to his knees on the ground.

"That's for you, Milkovich!"

Mickey fell face forward on he ground, barely feeling the sting of gravel digging into the side of his cheek. He tried to scream, yell for help, but nothing but bubbled blood and spit came out. He closed his eyes, and sighed in pain. His throat was closing up, and he rolled onto his back. He arched his back high in the air in pain as he screamed, loud enough for the city to hear. He tilted his head upwards to see the handle of a knife sticking out of his stomach. He tried sucking in as much breath as he could. When nothing was happening and his vision was slowly fading, he knew what was going to happen. He knew what this meant.

He's dying.

He didn't think about everything he failed to accomplish in life, but he more pitied himself for getting nowhere. He had thought of so many magnificent and amazingly bone-chilling ways to die, but instead he ended up with a knife in his gut bleeding out in an alleyway. But what made him hurt the most, as he felt his fingers coat themselves in his own blood, was a certain red-head that held a weird friendship with him.

Gallagher.

Ian fucking Gallagher.

Mickey knew at that exact moment while his vision blurred and started to fade, that Gallagher was more than a friend. He felt himself smile lopsidedly. Of course. Gallagher. It was him all along. He likes the kid, a lot. Of-fucking-course.

Ian Gallagher...


	7. Who did it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey's hurt. Ian wants to know who did it.

Ian whistled as he entered his home, hiding the bag of goods he bought Mickey behind his back. Mickey was talking about some new Van Damme movie for a while and of course, Ian went and bought it on rent for them to watch. He entered the house and glanced at Debbie laying on the couch, reading a magazine.

"Hey," Ian said, smile on his face. "Where's Mickey?"

"Don't know, never came," Debbie replied uninterestedly, humming a tone under her breath.

"Oh," Ian sighed, thinking Mickey must've dropped by the Alibi or a gun shack somewhere. Ian should've known, Mickey never really comes to the Gallagher house unless he has Ian at his side. Ian turned and left the house, heading to the Alibi.

He walked past some ambulances hovering with their sirens on blast around some alleyway but he didn't pay much attention to it, instead kept walking with a shrug.

He entered the Alibi and smiled at Kev but frowned when he saw no Mickey. "Mickey come around?" He asked just for safe measures as he stood by the door.

"Uh, nope," Kev said as he poured a drink. "Not since yesterday. Want a beer?"

"I'm good," Ian said before leaving. He couldn't help but feel anticipation rise in his throat. Mickey's been known to disappear for a few days at a time, but ever since the shit went down with Maria he's been staying around Ian. Ian quickly jogged to the dugouts, a sickening feel sinking in his stomach when Mickey wasn't anywhere around there. He walked by that alley again, this time covered with officers drinking coffee and talking. He didn't pay any mind to the blood on the floor by the officer's feet and instead rushed home.

He busted through the door quickly and went straight to the basement. He bumped into Iggy just as he took the last step.

"Eyes open, Gallagher!" Iggy said loudly through his cigarette. Ian licked his lips and bounced on one leg.

"Listen, I cant find Mickey anywhere," he said, blocking the way for Iggy to go upstairs. He had Iggy's attention though, since Iggy looked at him with wide eyes and flicked his cigarette away. "He was supposed to be coming home and I checked the Alibi and the dugouts, he isn't there. He doesn't usually walk around on his own anymore-"

"Where did you fucking see him last?" Iggy asked in a rush, taking his phone out.

"Leaving Kash 'N Grab." Ian peeked down at Iggy's phone to see Mandy's name flash across the screen. Iggy answered the call and pressed the phone against his ear, sighing loudly. He didn't speak but Ian heard Mandy's cries from the other side of the phone. Ian felt vomit rise in his throat. Mickey was in trouble. He's probably been hurt. And he cant help but feel its his fault.

-

 

-

 

 

Mickey's eyes blinked open.

Or at least, he tried to open them.

He felt his mouth opening and closing, but nothing came out because of how dry his throat was. He wanted to lift his arm, rub at his stinging eyes, but the moment he tried to lift it he knew it would hurt like a bitch. Instead he settled for clearing his throat and slowly, tentatively blinking his eyes open. He had to adjust to the blinding light above him, and almost choked when he saw his surroundings of a hospital room.

So he lived.

His first intention was to glance down at his stomach, see the hole the knife probably made, but instead came in contact with a crying body near him. He looked up to see Maria and he felt himself about to throw up. He turned his head and put it back down, not wanting to look at her. His hands clenched from where they couldn't move at his sides. Jesus, was he fucking paralyzed or something?

"Micael!" Maria wailed when she noticed Mickey's movements. "Oh, baby, you're awake!"

"What-" Mickey gasped at the sting at his throat when he spoke. Maria quickly picked up the glass of water on the side table and pressed it to Mickey's lips, watching him drink it down. When he finished he cleared his throat again, moving his head away from Maria's touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Baby," Maria whispered, brown eyes red and full of tears

"Baby," Maria whispered, brown eyes red and full of tears. "When a mother finds her son bleeding and unconscious in an alleyway at three in the afternoon, she kind of has to take him to a hospital."

"Y-you found me?"

"Why, yes of course," she laughed, wiping her tears with her hand. She used her other hand to hold Mickey's, and Mickey glanced down at the contrast of Maria's tan skin and his pale as snow one. He looked up at Maria who was watching their hands together. He felt his eyes sting with tears; how was he so rude to her? She saved him, Maria is the reason he is alive right now. He felt a smile pull at his lips. He felt himself lighten up slowly. Guess Maria wasn't so fuckin' useless after all.

His smile left when Maria looked up. That doesn't change anything she's done. Her leaving, her making Mickey and his siblings have to leave, she's the fuck up. Mickey was overwhelmed with emotions. He needed to leave. He needed Maria to leave. He needed someone else. He needed...

Gallagher.

His mood brightened knowing he could see Gallagher again. Guess he wasn't gone after all. He's too tough for this world.

Mickey looked up at the sound of the door opening and pulled his hand away from Maria when he saw a doctor. The doctor smiled and set his clipboard down on a table as he pulled up a chair beside Mickey and Maria. "So, Mickey, how are you feeling?"

Mickey shrugged as best as he could lying down. "Don't feel a lot right now."

The doctor nodded as if he was expecting that answer. "You're body is on a whole lot of different meds to keep the pain down."

"Like what?" Maria asked.

"Well, you're high on a bunch of Naproxen and Ibuprofen medications, so that's why you have no energy right now," the doctor chuckled. "And no, you're not paralyzed. But, when the meds wear off you're going to feel a lot of pain."

"They're not so fuckin' good then, huh?" Mickey scoffed.

"Don't worry, we'll give you some antibiotics to keep you going for the next few weeks. Now, do you remember anything?"

"Nothing," Mickey lied, looking at the ceiling above him. He remembered everything, the shrieking voice. That's for you, Milkovich! It made him sick to his stomach. "I want to be alone."

Maria's eyes widened but nodded when the doctor stood up solemnly and waited for her. She left the room quickly. "A nurse is just outside if you need her."

"Okay," Mickey bit his cheek. "Can I make a call?"

"Sure," the doctor smiled. He called a nurse in who handed Mickey his phone from a ziplock bag. Mickey used all of his energy to take his phone and press it to his ear. He choked when he felt a stinging pain against his abdomen and dropped his phone on the ground. The nurse quickly picked it up and set it to the side table.

"I'm sorry, Mickey. Bur if it's any of your relatives don't worry, they've been contacted. There's no need to call them."

Mickey sighed, feeling pathetic as he closed his eyes and nodded shortly. The nurse turned and left the room, leaving the door half open behind her. Mickey looked towards the small muted TV and watched the black and white version of Tom and Jerry. His eyes slowly began to shut tiredly, but every time his eyes closed the memory of those words and those blazing eyes, that's for you, Milkovich! rang in his ears. It was going to haunt him forever, he knew it.

Mickey sighed, frustrated. He felt tears pick at the corner of his eyes and he whimpered pathetically like a fucking kid when he felt it roll down his cheek, not having the energy to wipe it away.

Mickey glanced up as the door opened and bit the inside of his cheek when he saw Gallagher. He quickly closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side just for special effect. He heard Ian's footsteps approach the bed and soon a hand poke his cheek lightly. Mickey opened his eyes weakly and choked, trying his best to look half dead. He met Ian's eyes seriously and croaked, "I'm paralyzed."

Ian's eyes widened as he freaked for a second, before seeing right through Mickey and smiled bashfully as he swatted Mickey's arm. "Shut up."

Mickey began laughing with Ian until they were out of breath

Mickey began laughing with Ian until they were out of breath. Ian was more laughing at the relief that Mickey was OK, and Mickey was laughing at the relief of Ian coming back. Not that he thought Ian would leave, he just didn't know if Ian gave enough of a shit to come see him. God, he sounded like a pussy.

"So... What happened?" Ian asked, taking Maria's previous seat.

Mickey decided to ignore the question as he grunted and tried shuffling up. "Where's Iggy? Mandy?"

"Outside, Mandy's talking to the doctor and Iggy's trying to get your mom to leave."

"Which isn't happening."

Mickey and Ian both looked towards the door where Maria stood, arms crossed stubbornly as she glared at Ian. Ian's mouth open and closed, looking back and forth between Mickey and Maria. "Um."

"Who the hell are you?" Maria asked sassily, giving Ian the dirtiest look he'd ever received. Ian scoffed, ignoring his trembles of fear as he stood up.

"Mickey's friend," Ian replied, staring right back at Maria.

Maria snorted as Iggy and Mandy entered the room. "Yeah? Since when?"

Ian's raised his eyebrows at Maria as he chuckled sarcastically. "That's a pretty big question from someone who disappeared for ten years."

"Alright," Iggy intervened before Maria could say- or more likely hit something. "Maria, why the fuck are you even here?"

"I saved him," Maria snapped. "I found him bleeding out in an alley when none of you were around to fucking help!"

"Oh yeah?" Mandy shouted, hands on her hips. "There's no fucking way you were just there! You had something to do with this, didn't you?!"

"Watch your mouth, girl!"

"Don't talk to my goddamn sister like that!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Mickey yelled, startling everyone. "Fuck off! All of you! I have a fucking hole in my stomach right now and you pieces of shit aren't making it any better! Now fucking dip!"

Maria huffed but left the room, Iggy and Mandy following suit. Ian gave one last look to Mickey who had his eyes closed, his heart rate increasing. Ian rubbed Mickey's arm soothingly, before turning and leaving the room.

Mandy came to him as he shut the door behind him. "Well? Anything happened?"

"We're gonna find who did this," Ian said dangerously, yet calmly. He glared at Maria who was talking to a doctor a couple feet away. "And I will fucking kill them."


	8. Fuck!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey recovers. Ian's stressed. Someone's out.

"Hey," Ian said softly, holding Mickey's arm and letting the injured boy lean on him for support as he struggled to stand. "It's okay. You're fine."

"Thanks," Mickey said sheepishly as he stood up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his stomach. He absentmindedly ghosted his palm lightly over the large scar across his abdomen. Ian watched with pity filled eyes at the way Mickey hissed in pain at every step he took.

"Alright," the doctor said, checking some things on a paper. "So, take this after every meal, three times a day, after using a bathroom. Take this one twice a week, on whatever days but they have to be two days apart. It's good to make a schedule to keep track of the meds."

"Thank you," Maria said, though Ian was listening more intently. Ian quickly took the meds from the doctor before Maria could and shoved them in a paper bag.

"Thank you," Ian said solemnly to the doctor, not even sparring a glance at Maria as he placed a hand on Mickey's shoulder and helped him outside. Maria was on their tails the whole time, and soon it was the three standing in the parking lot, waiting for Iggy.

"You can go, you know?" Mickey said to his mother. She'd been stuck at his side in the hospital for three days, and the more Mickey has to look at her the more sick he feels. Though he will admit, he lightened up a bit on Maria's behalf. She did save him, after all.

"Come home, Micael," Maria pleaded, looking at her son with begging, watery eyes. "Please come home to your mother."

"You ain't a mom," Iggy said as he approached the three, placing a hand on Mickey's shoulder. "A mom stays with her kids and doesn't fucking disappear for ten goddamn years."

Mickey felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes and turned around, limping to Iggy's car. "Hey," Mandy greeted him quietly at her spot by the open car door. Mickey grunted in reply and ducked his head inside, painfully shuffling down to the end of the seat and leaning his head against the window. He didn't have to open his eyes to know it was Ian who slid in beside him and placed a soothing hand on Mickey's shoulder. Mickey felt his eyes fill with tears. Fuck. 

 

-

 

-

 

"Do you know who it was?" Ian asked quietly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his bent knees. Mickey sighed for the third time and tried getting comfortable on the bed.

"No," he replied bluntly. He peeked one eye open and sighed yet again at Ian who was staring at him as if thinking he would burst any second. "Get the fuck off my ass, man. If I knew the guy he woulda been dead by now."

"I think you know, Mickey," Ian mumbled, crawling towards Mickey's limp body. Mickey squeezed his eyes shut painfully a ran a hand over his face. The room was silent until Mickey felt a breath against his neck. "I think you know."

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked rather loudly, ripping his hands away from his face. His breath caught in his throat when he saw how close Gallagher was. They were two inches from pressing their lips together and Mickey's stomach throbbed more. Ian's eyes flickered to Mickey's lips. Mickey opened his mouth as he felt a warm hand slide up his jean clad thigh. Iggy and Mandy were probably just outside. And Terry, and probably Maria. Terry. "Terry!"

Ian jumped away from Mickey confusedly as he struggled to sit up, ripping the blankets off his body. Mickey tried to quickly pull his jacket on while not looking at Ian who was just staring from his spot on Mickey's bed. We almost kissed, Mickey thought as he left the room. Right?

"Fuck," he grunted as he began walking quickly down the sidewalk, half because of the pain and half because he fucked up yet again. His lips were dry from how breathless Ian made him. God, he sounded like a fucking girl. He could still feel Ian's hand going up his thigh. Was Ian into him? Or did he just do that to get something out of Mickey? Does he know Mickey's gay?

Mickey froze. I'm gay?

"Watch it, bitch!" A voice yelled at Mickey before Mickey felt himself run into some random crackhead. He looked up to see he was in the dugouts (he zoned out in the thought of Gallagher, fuck him) and clutched his stomach in pain. The man looked at Mickey disgustedly. "Yeah, you're the bitch Milkovich that got stabbed the other day, huh?"

Mickey threw the punch before even realizing he did it. He felt the pain in his jaw before the sore in his knuckles. He was on the ground in pain, vision blurry. Mickey knew he wasn't in any shape for a fight, but he wasn't gonna let some inbred cock talk about him like that. Fuck these assholes. Mickey closed his eyes and awaited more pain that never came. He listened to grunts and the sound of someone spitting before a loud thump to the ground. He looked up with furrowed eyebrows using as much energy he could to see who allegedly saved him. He saw a blur of blonde hair and tattoos before the pain became too much, and he passed out. 

 

-

 

-

 

"Where's Mickey?" Ian asked as he entered the kitchen after a long, cold shower. Mandy looked up from where she was writing something and shrugged.

"Thought he was with you?"

"He left like, twenty minutes ago or something. You didn't see him?"

"Ian," Mandy sighed, dropping her pencil. "Doesn't matter what pain Mickey's been through, or what shit he faced. He hates company. He never wants anyone with him, he fucking hates the support. He's probably smoking and drinking somewhere. Worst case scenario, he's in an alley getting jacked off by a hooker. You don't gotta waste time worrying about him."

"Waste time?" Ian all but shouted. "He's your fucking brother! My friend! Caring about him doesn't mean wasting time!"

"Friend?" Mandy scoffed, standing up. "Mickey doesn't keep friends! Listen, I could be a real great fucking sister but guess what? He doesn't need one!"

"And how would you know that?!" Ian laughed sarcastically. "Just because he doesn't blurt out how he fuckin' feels every minute doesn't mean he's happy being alone!"

"Nobody needs anyone around here! You forget the fucking rules? It's the south side, smartass! Being alone is how everyone's happy!"

"Unbelievable," Ian shook his head, picking up his jacket roughly. "One person acts like a tough ass and pretends he doesn't need anybody and everyone falls for it. You know, maybe he just needs a reason to think you care."

"Fuck you!"

-

 

-

 

"Bout fucking time." Mickey heard someone say as he blinked his eyes open, feeling immense pain in his stomach and jaw. He looked towards the body hanging on the chin up rod him and Ian set up a while ago. He was still in the dugouts. It was getting dark and cold. He squinted at the body, heart beginning to race 100 miles a second when his vision focused.

"Fuck!" Mickey yelled hoarsely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please share and vote and comment


	9. Just Admit It, Mick.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian does something he's wanted to do for a while now.

Mickey choked up, shuffling back and leaning against the wall. His hand came up unconsciously to rub against his bruised jaw. He stared at Colin, eyes wide and unforgiving. "What- you-"

"Damn," Colin commented, eyes sparkling as he stared at his youngest brother. "That prick got you pretty good in the mouth, huh? Must've broke your tongue."

Mickey feverishly glanced at the unconscious and severely bleeding man on the ground near him. He looked back at Colin. "How?"

"Overcrowding," Colin muttered, lighting a cigarette. He waved his hand as if to drop the subject. "Had a good reputation. Let me out early."

"Four years early?" Mickey asked loudly, slowly standing up. "They let you out four years early?"

"Good reputation," Colin replied sternly again, not liking it when he had to repeat himself. Mickey's mouth dried up as he let out a small grunt of pain when he finally got on his feet.

"Yeah, fuck you and your reputation," Mickey spat, clutching his stomach. "I don't need your help."

"What's up your ass?"

"Just go away," Mickey sighed, turning around and walking away. "I don't need you no more."

Colin watched his brother limp away, his arms starting to feel weak from hanging on the pole. He felt his heart clench at the way Mickey spoke.

"What are you talking about?" Colin asked quietly from behind him, making Mickey's heart break a little

 

"What are you talking about?" Colin asked quietly from behind him, making Mickey's heart break a little. "Are you telling me you didn't fucking realize who did this to you?"

Mickey stopped. He turned around and stared at Colin. "What?"

"She did this!" Colin yelled, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and dropping it to the floor. Mickey scoffed and turned to leave again before Colin grabbed his elbow. "She's the one did this to you. She fucking knew you'd get all soft for her!"

"Stop, Colin, you sound like a dumbass. Yeah, Maria's crazy but she ain't that crazy."

"Really?" Colin laughed unbelievably. "Are you kidding me? Maria beat a woman's fucking head in with a beer bottle until she died. Maria ran a car over our own fucking uncle until he paid up. Maria beat the shit out of me, and locked me out of the fucking house for two weeks in the cold snow with only jeans and a t-shirt. Wake the fuck up, Mickey."

Mickey pulled his arm away. "I'm awake, bitch. Might've taken you eleven years but I was wide awake the whole time. Fuck you think, me and Ma are best friends now? You think I can even look at her now? I fucking can't! It's worse now! Every time I look at her I feel like throwing up, cause I remember all the shit she pulled with you. I hate her, I fucking hate her more than you do. But this shit you just pulled, that's fuckin' low. Real low."

"What do you want me to do?" Colin shouted while Mickey walked away again, this time rolling his eyes at the desperation in Colin's voice. "I'm not lying to you, Mickey!"

-

 

 

-

 

"Mickey come here?" Ian asked hurriedly to Fiona who was looking through bills.

"Iggy came by, not Mickey," Fiona replied, looking up with wide eyes when she noticed tears fall from Ian's eyes. "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Ian?"

Ian sobbed into his sister's shoulder as she hugged him. He cried and cried, gripping onto Fiona as if she would disappear any second. "Why does he l-leave like t-this?"

"Ian?"

"Why?" Ian cried, desperately tugging at Fiona's shirt. "He a-almost died, I almost l-lost him. Why do I-"

The sound of the door slamming shut made Ian pull away quickly from his sister. He stared at Mickey who shuffled inside, one hand resting over his stomach. Mickey looked at Ian from where he stood near the couch, squinting when he noticed Ian's tear stained cheeks and red eyes. "Ian?"

Ian sniffled and sprinted up the stairs, and it wasn't long before Mickey and Fiona heard the bathroom door slam shut. Fiona put her hands on her hips and looked at Mickey sternly, eying the bruise on his jaw and the way he clutched his stomach. "What happened?"

"Stabbed," Mickey replied bluntly as he took a seat at the kitchen table. "You didn't hear? Thought the whole fucking town knew."

"Not that," she said while putting a cup of water in front of Mickey. She pointed at the purple bruise on his jaw. "That."

"South side, street shit happens."

Fiona sighed, sinking into the chair next to the stubborn boy. "So. Why were you guys at your house?"

"Maria never showed up, thought we should pack some shit and ended up crashing there for a while," Mickey explained. He pinched the bridge of his nose painfully and sighed. "Fuck. I was supposed to go see Terry, but that's clearly not gonna happen."

"He got out?"

"He should be by now. I was gonna check at the Alibi until I fucking ran into Co- some asshole."

"You can tell me," Fiona said promisingly. She tentatively placed a hand over Mickey's tatted one. She gave him a reassuring smile when he didn't pull away. "Trust me, Mick."

Mickey met Fiona's eyes and closed his, spilling everything.

-

 

-

 

Colin banged his fists against the Milkovich door repeatedly. He knew someone was in there. He pulled his hood tighter over his face while looking around nervously. So far, he'd done a pretty good job of keeping hidden from anyone finding out he was out of prison, but it wont be too long before someone finds out. He pounded his fists against the door again.

"What?" Maria barked as she opened the door roughly. Colin stared disgustedly at the vodka bottle in his mother's hands and the bruises all over her face. Maria gasped as she dropped the bottle on the ground, her hands covering her mouth. "Colin?"

"Yes," Colin replied quietly, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at his mother. Maria's hands slowly came up to touch Colin's face. Colin quickly grabbed her wrist before she could touch him and leaned closer to her face.

"What are you doing?" She asked fearfully at the devil in Colin's eyes and the steel grip on her arms.

"If you ever, ever touch one of my brothers again," Colin warned in a low voice, giving her a shake to make sure she was listening. "Especially Mickey, I will fucking kill you. I will take a knife, and twist it so hard in your goddamn gut that you'll be alive for hours wishing you were fucking dead."

"What are you talking about-"

"Don't play dumb with me," he hissed dangerously. "I know you set that whole thing up. You make me sick, you pathetic cunt. Only you would do that to your own son. I will murder you, and go back to prison with a fucking smile if it means getting rid of you."

"You're making a big, big mistake," Maria whispered.

"No, Maria," Colin said with a small smile as he let go of her, giving her a nudge back into the house. "You are."

Maria watched her eldest son walk back down the porch steps. When he turned around again, giving a snarky smile, she smiled back before shutting the door quickly, body quivering in fear.

When he turned around again, giving a snarky smile, she smiled back before shutting the door quickly, body quivering in fear

 

-

 

 

-

 

"Jesus," Fiona mumbled after Mickey finished explaining. Mickey had begun all the way from when he went to see Colin up until his previous encounter. "You think Maria did it?"

"I don't know," Mickey sighed pathetically. He thought about going for another cigarette but thought against it, since he already went through four. "Colin wouldn't say that for no reason."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she did."

"Yeah. Me neither." They sat in silence for a while, both taking in everything that was happening. Fiona finally sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"Do you think Terry's with her?" She asked.

"Probably," Mickey admit quietly.

"Jamie come by?"

"No. Haven't seen him for a while."

"Think he might've been the... You know... Who hurt you?"

Mickey looked at Fiona incredulously. "No, what the fuck? He's my brother alright, he wouldn't fucking do that. Plus, the guy didn't even sound like him."

A loud crash came from the back porch and both Fiona and Mickey looked towards the door. Mickey's hands gripped the cup of water, ready to throw it at whoever was coming through the door. The handle began jiggling and it wasn't long before frank was stumbling inside, pulling his hat off his head.

"Fuck you Milkovich's," he muttered distractedly, waltzing towards the fridge. He took out a beer. "Ruining all the fun."

"What are you talking about?" Mickey sighed.

"Terry. Your deadbeat father comes out of prison and fucks up the alibi while people cheer for his inconsideration. I mean, if it was me, I would've bought everybody a drink, celebrate the democracy! But not your cheap bastard father, jumbling drunk and taking the hippie chicks with him."

"Oh shit, Terry's at the alibi," Fiona commentated.

"Celebrating about how he beat his wife," Frank sighed, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "You're all fucked up."

"He beat Maria?" Mickey asked.

"You wouldn't believe it, bruises all over his knuckles."

"That actually explains why she hasn't come looking for me," Mickey said with a blissful feeling. "Fuck. I need sleep."  
I need Gallagher.

He stood up and limped to the stairs. He slowly walked towards Ian's room, noticing the lump of his body under the covers. "Hey."

Ian didn't reply. Mickey sat with a grunt next to Ian and put his head in his hands for a minute as he just let everything sink in. Soon, he glanced back over his shoulder at Ian again who hadn't moved an inch. "Yo, you alright?"

Ian said nothing but shuffled closer to the wall. Mickey slowly pulled the covers off of Ian's head. He heard a grumbling sound and then Ian pulling the covers roughly back over himself. "I'm fine."

"Okay," Mickey said slowly, resisting the urge to run his hands through Ian's fiery hair. "Can you look at me and say that?"

Ian stayed silent and didn't move. Mickey continued, "Did I do something? C'mon man, give me a hint."

"You-" Ian started before sighing loudly, shuffling under the covers. He finally turned around and Mickey frowned at the tear stains on his cheeks and his red eyes. "Laugh if you want. I don't care."

"I'm not going to laugh, Gallagher," Mickey reassured the boy. "Just tell me."

"You left again," Ian finally said. "You-you're not supposed to be out alone, Mickey. You just got fucking stabbed, and now you've got some bruise on your jaw that I know you got today so, why Mickey? Why for once can you not just sit the fuck down and let someone take care of you?"

"I don't need no goddamn keeper," Mickey grumbled. Ian nodded.

"I know, but you went through a shitload. Trust me, I wanna find this fuck-head just as much as you do but in your condition its better if you just... let someone bring you back to health."

"So why are you crying?"

"I don't know... guess I got overwhelmed or some shit. You know, when you give a fuck about someone and then they get hurt, you kind of feel responsible."

Mickey laughed. "Yeah, I know." After a minute of silence he continued. "So what? You want me to sit around while you take care of me?" 

Ian smiled. "That's exactly what I wanna do."

"As much as that sounds fucking great," Mickey sighed sadly. "I got business and shit. You remember Colin?"

Ian nodded, "Yeah."

"He's out. Got out four years early for good behaviour. I got shit to deal with him, and then Terry also got out too and beat the shit out of Maria. I don't know man, I gotta deal with that shit first."

"What about Iggy? Or Mandy? Why is it always you?"

"Because when you give a fuck about someone and they get hurt, you kind of feel responsible."

Ian stared at Mickey blankly. "You... you give a fuck about Maria?"

Mickey laughed awkwardly. "I don't know, guess that came out wrong."

"What did you mean then?"

"I..."

Ian sat up and grabbed Mickey's hands trying to not scare him away. Mickey tensed, not being able to look away from Ian's green eyes. Ian slowly leant in, pulling Mickey in with him.

"What are you doing?" Mickey asked quietly, face inches from Ian's. He could feel Ian's hot breath on his mouth.

"I'm-" Ian placed a hand on Mickey's thigh, just like he did earlier that day. "I'm doing what I've wanted to do for a long time, Mickey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please share vote comment thank you


	10. Fags

Ian surges forward and grabs Mickey, pulling the older boy on top of him before pressing their bodies together and breathing into each other's mouths.

Mickey grins wickedly before leaning down and pressing his lips to Ian's. He slid his fingers under the hem of Ian's shirt and runs his hands up Ian's chest. Ian reciprocates, putting his own hands up the back of Mickey's tee and running his thumbs up and down along Mickey's spine.

The kissing already has Mickey gasping, grinding down onto Ian's lap. Ian grins into Mickey's mouth, goes immediately for his fly, unzipping it and sliding his hand inside Mickey's underwear.

"Wait, Jesus," Mickey laughed breathlessly, regretfully pulling Ian's hand away. He didn't stop moving his hips, which had Ian growl lowly. "I'm not trying to get caught, Gallagher."

"We won't-"

"We will." Mickey sighed and climbed off of Ian, zipping his fly back up. He stood there for a minute, watching Ian as he tried re-collecting himself by straightening his shirt and adjusting himself in his pants.

"Sleep?" Ian asked, looking up.

Mickey cleared his throat, meeting Ian's eyes. "Yeah."

With a small smile Ian laid down across the bed, pulling the covers up his body. He gave Mickey a daring look that said come if you want, but also said nobody's judging you. Mickey wanted to, fuck of course he did, but he can't. The thought of someone catching him in bed with another guy, even if they're just sleeping, made him feel sick to the stomach. He'd never really seen the outcome of a situation like that, but there's no fucking way it wouldn't be hell. Instead Mickey averted his eyes and moved to make a spot on the ground.

"Jesus, Mickey," Ian sighed with an annoyed expression as he sat up on the bed. He pulled Mickey's arm, lightly, and pushed him until he was on the bed. "You ain't gotta sleep with me, but there's no way you're sleeping on the ground."

Mickey's lips twitched fondly as he watched Ian make a spot for himself next to the bed. Finally he laid down, glancing up at Mickey who was just staring at him and winked. Mickey rolled his eyes and kicked Ian's leg, laying down across the bed. "Fag."

He heard Ian chuckle lowly. After a pause, Ian asked, "How long?"

"Can I get some fuckin' sleep, Gallagher?"

"C'mon Mick, just tell me. I risked my life today, thought you were gonna kill me for even touching you."

Mickey didn't answer. He waited a while, staring at the wall and breathing in Ian's scent off the pillow. "Few years."

"Me too," Ian breathed. "I think I was fourteen? Yeah, must've been fourteen. I don't know man, boobs are weird."

"Not that bad." Mickey needed a cigarette. Or better yet, some fucking sleep. He slowly closed his eyes.

"You're not that bad." Mickey's eyes opened, his chest fluttering at Ian's words in joy. He felt a small smile pull at his lips and suddenly felt like a fourteen year old girl being told her crush likes her back. "Even though you gave me blue balls."

The kick to his dick said otherwise as Ian groaned and covered his groin in pain. Mickey snorted against the pillow. "Now they're black and blue balls."

-

 

-

"That's for you, Milkovich!"

The man's breath smelt like alcohol and crappy weed. His gritty fingers pressed into Mickey as he held him against the wall.

The knife was being dragged across Mickey's neck, his chest, his stomach. A daring promise glazing across his skin, waiting to make a mark. Mickey held his breath as the man wrapped his hands around Mickey's neck, and squeezed.

He heard cries, shouts, yells. He heard Maria's voice, inaudible but clearly angry. He heard Iggy, shouting threats. He heard Mandy's rare cries. But he saw, he saw Colin. There he was, leaning against the brick wall of the damp alley only meters away with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. Mickey recognized that look. That 'you should have listened to me' look. He wasn't moving to help Mickey, but then again, neither was the rest of his family.

"We gotta go," a voice whispered in his ear. "Now! Now!"

"But Mickey!" Ian, thank god. Ian.

He tried calling for help, but his throat was occupied by being choked. He suddenly couldn't breathe. He was really dying.

"We have to leave him!" The voice whispered, a hissing noise. He heard Ian's loud cries of protest.

"I won't leave him!"

He felt the knife sink into his stomach slowly, painfully. He glanced down, staring at the blood gushing out as the knife went deeper. Like a mantra, the words sang in his head.

"That's for you, Milkovich!"

Mickey jolted awake, gasping. His hands immediately came to rest upon the scar on his stomach as he gushed out a breath of air. He glanced down at Ian who was peacefully asleep on the floor. He could hear Liam's and Carl's snores as well, but no Lip. Which wasn't surprising, the kid wasn't usually home anyway. He stared at Ian a while longer, admiring the boy's pale complexion in contrast with his red hair.

He checked the time. 7:05 am on a Saturday. Nobody was waking up anytime soon. Mickey closed his eyes, tried to get some more sleep, but ended up giving in and just rolling off the bed to go use the bathroom. While washing his hands he noticed the large bruise on his jaw and sighed. His hand hit his hip as he dried his hands, making him hiss out in pain. He lifted his shirt and raised his eyebrows at the finger print bruises across his pale skin. His chest filled with something, something good. Ian left marks on him, he marked him.

Finally he got out just as Lip got in, looking wasted and worn out as fuck. "Gotta grow up eventually," Mickey grunted as a reminder to the boy. Lip rolled his eyes and gave the finge, then rushed into the bathroom, and it wasn't long before the sound of puking followed.

Mickey went down to the kitchen and set the coffee. He thought about his dream as he waited, which wasn't a usual occurrence since he mostly would rather pretend those unconsciously fucked up thoughts never really happened. This was his first dream that involved Ian. Shit.

"Up early?"

Mickey looked up and shrugged at Fiona who had Liam on her hip. She put the toddler down on the kitchen chair and took eggs and milk out of the fridge. "Pass me the cereal from up there. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Mickey replied, too tired to fight and bitch. Instead he did as Fiona asked and retrieved the cereal from the shelf. "Gonna go see Maria now. Try to find Colin and sort this shit out."

"That's a good idea," Fiona said as he poured cereal into a bowl and added milk. She put it in front of Liam who immediately dug in. "You should take Lip and Ian with you. They're good help."

"If I do that, it'll look like I'm trying to start a fuckin' fight and that won't help at all," Mickey sighed. He poured himself some coffee. "Nobody's gotta get hurt. When I see Terry, that's when shit might get real."

"How do you know you won't run into him today?"

"I don't," Mickey pursed his lips and gave a sarcastic laugh. "If I do, I'll either come back or I wont. All I know is, none of that is apart of the plan."

Fiona nodded as she cracked a few eggs into a bowl. "So," she said after a while. "You talked to Ian last night, right?"

Mickey hid his twitching lips with the coffee mug. Talked. "I guess."

"He was really... I don't know, fucked up about the you gettin' stabbed thing," Fiona mumbled as she looked Mickey in the eye. "I don't wanna know, but just- don't hurt him? Okay?"

Mickey's jaw clenched as he dropped the mug so hard on the counter it almost cracked. "I ain't no fucking fag," he spat, grabbing his coat as he pushed past Fiona.

"I wasn't-"

"I'm not a fag." Mickey stopped by the counter to look Fiona directly in the eyes. Fiona's eyes twitched to the stairs before flickering back to Mickey. Mickey turned his head to see a tired Ian standing at the bottom of the stairs with a look of disgust on his face. Mickey's heart clenched as Ian turned and ran back upstairs. He turned back to Fiona who gave him a straight, unimpressed face. "I'm not gay."

-

 

-

"Hey Mickey, drink?" Kev asked as Mickey walked into the Alibi.

"Where's Terry?"

"Got out of prison yesterday, got shit faced and left," Kev shrugged. He poured Mickey a shot anyway. "Probably back at your house."

Mickey took the shot and bolted.

-

 

-

"Jesus," Mickey blurted when Maria opened the door. He eyed her bruised face up and down. "Terry home?"

"No," Maria hissed. Her hand clenched the door. "But he's around if you're looking to beat the shit out of him."

"Why would I do that?"

Maria scoffed. "Because he hit your mother. Look at what he did to me."

Mickey shrugged, "Welcome to the south side, bitch. Where's Jamie?"

"Fuck did you call me?" Maria yelled, pushing at Mickey's chest. "Fuck did you fucking call your mother?!"

"Chill the fuck out!"

"I gave you everything!" Maria screamed, tears falling down her cheeks. "You were my favourite! I loved you! I took care of you when you were sick! All I want, el nene, is too take care of you. Look at you, you're hurt. And you won't even take your mother's love! You will never get better until you accept your mother's love!"

"Ma-"

"I gave you kids everything," she sobbed, shoulders shaking. Mickey's heart tightened. "Everything I did was for you. But none of you listen to me long enough to realize that."

"Ma, I-"

The door shut before Mickey could say anything. He sighed and leaned his forehead against it, breathing deeply. "Fuck."

Mickey's phone began ringing. He took it out, answering the call distractedly. "What?"

"Hey, Mickey Mouse. Meet me at the dugouts."

-

 

-

"Fuck did I say about calling me Mickey Mouse?" Mickey hissed as he approached Colin who was lighting a cigarette.

Colin snorted. "What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?"

"What do you want?" Mickey asked exasperatedly. He leaned against the gate.

"It's Jamie," Colin said through the cigarette. He took it out and exhaled. "He's missing."

"So what, he goes to New York every week and comes back eventually. Trust me Colin, you missed a shit load in eleven years."

"Nah, man," Colin crossed his legs and met Mickey's eyes. "He's gone."

"Fucking repeating what you said before doesn't make it anymore clear-" Mickey noticed the look on Colin's face. "What... What do you mean, gone?"

"Last thing anyone heard, got his ass pulled inside out by Terry," Colin looked down at his feet. "My guess? He's dead."

"Jesus," Mickey muttered. He didn't think Jamie was dead. He believed the Terry part, honestly sounds like something that bastard would do, but he didn't think Jamie would actually be dead. It's too sudden. He looked back up at Colin. "So what? What's your plan?"

"We gotta set Terry straight," Colin said simply, as if Mickey hadn't thought of that a million times before. "I got guys. You can find some too. We're gonna set his fucking head straight."

Mickey scoffed, shaking his head. "Alright Einstein, who the fuck would wanna fight Terry? Everyone's either up his ass or scared of him."

"I can list off an army of guys in Boys Town."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "What, like, fags?"

"You'd be fucking surprised what fags can do." The glint in Colin's eye made Mickey's knees quiver as Colin approached him. "Yeah, Mick. I know your secret, with that little red headed friend of yours."


	11. Reckless

Mickey gaped at his older brother, scoffing a little. Colin raised his eyebrows daringly.

Mickey laughed, "You're fucking cr-"

"Don't," Colin interrupted, putting a hand up. "I saw it."

"Where? Where the fuck did you see it?"

"I got eyes, Mickey," Colin said. Mickey felt like throwing up. He felt tears prick at his eyes pathetically, fuck what should he do? What does he do? He turned around, not being able to face his brother without feeling like vomiting everywhere. He felt Colin grab his arm.

"Hey, Mickey," Colin sighed, sternly pulling Mickey back to him. "Mickey are you... crying?"

Mickey couldn't stop the tears falling from his face, but he pushed his head down anyway at an attempt to hide himself. Colin took Mickey's face softly in his hands and made him look up. Mickey let out a sob, trying to pull Colin's hands off him weakly. "Stop-"

"Mickey, I don't care," Colin insisted, not letting his little brother look away from his face. "I do not give a single fuck if you're gay or straight. I didn't, shit Mick- I didn't mean to scare you or something."

"I'm not scared," Mickey snapped. He moved away from Colin and wiped his pathetic tears away. "And what bullshit is that? Obviously you give a shit, you're the one who fucking hates gays."

"You dumbass, you act like you hate gays, don't you?" Colin chuckled a little awkwardly. "Listen man, we were just raised in a shitty town, alright? I never really gave a shit about who people liked, fag was just a word I used for everyone."

Mickey didn't know what to say. He wiped his tears away. "Why'd you bring it up then?"

"I don't know," Colin admit quietly. "Guess I just didn't want you hiding shit from me anymore. Anyone else know?"

"No," Mickey sighed, looking down at his feet again. "Shit man, I don't even know if I know. I cant even fucking accept it, feel like it's only... him."

"Shit though, a Gallagher?" Colin snorted, unimpressed. "I had a thing with the eldest girl, Tianna? Dunno man, they're too crazy for me."

"It's Fiona, dumb ass. And... were you spying on me or some shit?"

"I saw you walk into the Gallagher house of all places and got a little curious," Colin shrugged. He made a teasingly disgusted face and kicked Mickey's ankle lightly. "Then I ended up seeing you about to bone the red head-"

"Jesus," Mickey blurt, not letting his brother go any farther.

"What's his name?" Colin asked. Mickey averted his eyes and rubbed at his still aching jaw in a way to distract himself.

"Who cares, just a pass time," he said, not even sure if he was lying or not. Still, he felt a little guilty saying it. Ian's a nice guy, but there's no way he'd be even slightly into Mickey, even if he kissed him. It was probably just a slip up anyway. He cant afford to have people think he's gay, he's being too obvious. He'd lucky Fiona didn't push like Colin did, otherwise it most probably would've been two people aware of his darkest and deepest secret.

"Probably a good idea," Colin replied seriously. "Kid doesn't look like he wants to have his fucking heart ripped out by you, and you don't look like you know what the fuck you're even doing right now."

Mickey ignored the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, the feeling that Colin was right. Ian doesn't deserve that shit. And plus, since when did Mickey become a little sappy piece of shit? Fuck this, he's Mickey Milkovich. He doesn't fucking go down or go down on anybody. "Whatever, man. Where's Terry?"

Colin shook his head. "No idea, and don't wanna know. First, we get guys. I recommend you get Iggy, Lip Gallagher and the red head, then get uncle Rodney and see if he's down for it. I'll head to my friends in Boystown and see how they feel."

"They'll feel pretty good," Mickey mumbled under his breath. He fidgeted when Colin raised his eyebrow at him. "Terry got busted again for beating the shit out of a couple gays in Boystown while he was on a run, that's how he ended back up in jail. My guess, they'll be fucking ecstatic to hear about beating the shit out of Terry."

"Even better. Now go, I aint wasting any time." Colin gave Mickey a curt nod before turning to leave, pulling his hood over his head.

"You might wanna go see Iggy and Mandy first," Mickey said. Colin froze, not turning around. "Colin. Let's go see Iggy and Mandy first."

"They know I'm out?" Colin replied in a small voice.

"No."

"You didn't tell them?" Colin turned around. Mickey shook his head.

"Nah man, thought you'd wanna do it yourself, I don't know."

-

 

 

-

"Mandy! Iggy!" Mickey shouted as soon as he threw open the Gallagher door. There wasn't any reply, which wasn't exactly surprising. The lazy fucks were probably sleeping.

Colin entered hesitantly behind him, following Mickey to the kitchen. "Iggy! Mandy! Wake the fuck up!" Mickey repeated.

Soon there was the two other Milkovich's dragging themselves upstairs and to the sound of their brother's voice. "What?" Mandy moaned as she entered the kitchen in shorts and a t-shirt. The fist that was rubbing her eye tiredly plastered itself over her mouth when she noticed Colin. Without a word she ran towards him, enveloping her eldest brother in a tight hug that he quickly returned. Iggy stood by the counter, eyes casted downward.

"Heard you were out," Iggy said as Mandy sobbed happily into Colin's shoulder. Colin looked up at Iggy from where his wet face was pressed into Mandy's shoulder and smiled. Iggy shifted from one foot to the other. "Didn't believe it."

Mickey couldn't help it, he smiled. He decided to let his three sibling talk as he walked upstairs, wandering to Ian's room, barely noticing what he was doing. He caught site of Ian on his bed, typing away on his phone shirtless and looking incredibly fuckable. Mickey stopped himself, you ain't doing this shit no more, he said to himself. You ain't gonna ruin his life and your own.

"Gallagher," He announced as he walked inside the room, raising an eyebrow when he noticed Lip on the other bed, reading a magazine, also shirtless. Was this a fucking thing or something? "You two always hang out shirtless?"

"Lazy," Lip grunted out. Ian chuckled and locked his phone, dropping it to the side.

"What's up, Mick?" Ian asked with that glint in his eye, the same one Mickey saw last night while he- nope, no. Not today, not ever.

"Need your help, both of you," he said. Lip looked up and soon he had the eyes of both Gallagher's on him waiting expectantly. "We're gonna beat the shit out of Terry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please share, vote and comment


	12. Angst

Lip snorted, picking his magazine back up as he fell back on the bed. Mickey watched him with raised eyebrows. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Lip moved his magazine down to look at Mickey, a giddy smile still on his face. It slowly disappeared when he looked at Ian and saw the straight faces the two boys in front of him. He sat up hurriedly. "Wait- you're serious?"

"Serio- obviously I'm fucking serious!" Mickey exclaimed, rubbing a stressed hand over his face. "Listen, Terry's makin' a lot of problems and I'm fucking sick of it. It ends now."

"Took you long enough," Ian mumbled under his breath, to what Mickey tried to ignore.

"Yeah? Us and what fucking army?" Lip asked as he stood up. "We're just ants compared to the guys Terry probably has."

"We got a lot of people," Mickey insisted, making Lip roll his eyes. "Colin."

"Who the fuck's Colin?"

"Colin Milkovich," Ian blurted, looking at Lip dead panned. Lip looked at Mickey with fear flashing across his eyes.

"Y- Colin- he's in prison, right?"

Mickey shook his head as the room fell silent. It was difficult, due to Colin's soft and calmed voice, to hear him talking to his siblings downstairs. But the small hum of his voice was enough to make Lip shudder.

"So," Mickey sighed. "You in?"

Ian nodded silently from his spot on the bed. Him and Mickey both looked at Lip expectantly. Lip laughed sarcastically. "Give me one good reason why I should risk getting my fucking dick chopped off, just so you can teach your deadbeat dad a lesson?"

"First of all, this ain't no lesson," Mickey growled dangerous as he walked into Lip's personal face, their faces now only inches apart. "I'm killing that piece of shit, jail time or not, I don't give a fuck. Second, if you don't help me do this, you'll have me on your ass for the rest of your life, and probably Maria too when she decides to take care of the precious Gallagher family."

"Fuck does she care?" Lip asked in a horrible attempt of brave, but Mickey saw right through him. He knew Mickey was right.

"Next time, when Frank makes a deal with Terry that he can't fuckin' pay off, I ain't gonna be there to slow him down," Mickey referred to a couple years back, when the drunk Frank took a little baby, who must've been Liam, to the bar and held him as a shield from a furious Terry screaming for his money. Mickey jumped in, being young and not wanting to see a baby get thrown to the floor, knowing Terry's temper. He got a good beating for it afterwards, but at least the baby lived. And apparently, Frank managed to pay his debts by the next day.

"We paid that off," Lip said. "We got the money."

Mickey chuckle disbelievingly. "You don't get it... Liam out there would be fucking dead if it wasn't for me, so don't be a smart ass."

Lip looked defeated for a minute, his eyes flickering to Ian who was watching the scene quietly but attentively. He sighed. "Alright, fine, whatever."

"Good," Mickey said, nodding. "Alright. Let's go."

-

 

-

 

"Those are your guys?" Mickey asked as a group of four bulky men walked towards their car after exiting the gay club. Colin nodded silently and watched them approach. Mickey looked around, feeling a little uncomfortable with the sight of so many gay people around him. It made him feel weird, that two people in this car- he flickered his eyes to Ian in the back who was also looking around interestedly- knew he was gay. He didn't want to fit in with these gay people, he didn't even want to be gay. He just is.

"This is Mercedes, Ryan, Danny and Richie," Colin said as the guys stood next to the side of the car he was in, just by the open window. Mickey roamed his eyes over them, contemplating. Mercedes was the biggest, with a strong chest and huge biceps, but also a determined look on his face. He looked angry, but in the way that that was his regular face. Ryan was smaller, average size with a baby cute face. Danny and Richie were both clearly Italian, and also pretty much Mercedes's size. Mickey felt pretty proud that his brother got these guys together.

"Get in, guys," Colin said as he unlocked the back doors. The four men shuffled into the van, squishing Iggy, Lip and Ian as they all managed to fit.

"Jesus," Danny complained once the door shut. "Couldn't get a smaller van?"

"Don't be a smart ass," Colin replied nonchalantly as he lit a cigarette. Mickey began driving, trying not to laugh at the pained look on Ian's face through the rear view mirror.

"We need a plan," Lip said as he pushed through to get to where Colin and Mickey sat in the front. "Doesn't matter who we're beating the shit out of. We need a reason."

"I could go on forever," Colin said, exhaling his smoke out the window. Lip tensed. He was always afraid of Colin- everyone was. And Colin rarely spoke, so this was the first for anyone that wasn't a Milkovich.

"We can't walk into a bar and kill him," Lip pressed. "We'll all go to jail."

"What do you fucking suppose we do, then?" Mickey barked, hands gripping on the steering wheel.

"Okay..." Lip said, looking back at Ian and flickering his eyes to Ryan. "I got a plan..."

-

 

-

Mickey watched, a little fucking pissed, as Ian walked into the bar, taking a seat a few seats away from where Terry was drinking shots after shots. Ian was clearly nervous, his leg bouncing up and down as he avoided eye contact with Terry, who barely even noticed him. The bar wasn't packed, but there was enough people to pass as witnesses. Mickey shifted onto his other foot and shuffled more into the booth, sliding to the shadiest side where there was no way Terry could notice him. He flickered his eyes to Colin who was standing near the bar, baseball cap on his head to disguise himself. Mickey looked up at the upper floor where there was a railing that Lip was leaning against with Mercedes and Iggy beside him. Danny and Richie were both on opposite sides of Terry, drinking distantly.

Mickey's ears thumped from the loud music being played by the club attached to the bar. His leg began to bounce again when he saw Ryan enter the bar and make a beeline for Ian. Ian straightened when he saw Ryan and waved to the bartender who came over and took his order. Mickey bit the inside of his cheek, his chest flaring when Ryan went and sat next to Ian.

It's just procedure, he told himself. Just procedure. What am I getting so mad anyway? It ain't like you like him or something. You getting jealous now, Mickey?

Mickey watched as Ryan sat next to Ian, making sure the view was clear for everyone including Terry. It took all of Mickey's willpower, every fucking centimetre of it not to rip Ryan's head off as he cradled Ian's face and mumbled something that made Ian laugh. The laugh got Terry's drunken attention as he glanced at the two, clearly getting riled up. He just stared at them, hand clenching around a glass cup filled with vodka.

Mickey felt as angry as Terry did when Ryan pressed his lips to Ian's, except for a whole other reason. Terry slammed his cup down and stomped towards them, and that's when Mickey made the signal to everybody.

"Faggots!" Terry's voice echoed through the bar, catching everyone's attention. Ryan and Ian pulled apart and looked at Terry. "Everywhere I fucking go you queers are right behind me!"

Ian ducked the beer bottle that Terry picked up off the counter and threw at him. He scrambled to get up, but Terry caught him before he could and Mickey was fuming. He ran towards them, feeling himself slow down when Terry punched Ian so hard across the face Mickey could hear the crack of his nose from where he stood. Mickey cringed and ran faster. Terry kneed Ian's stomach making him clutch it painfully and cry out. Colin came up from behind as everyone gasped when Ian fell onto the floor, blood spurting out of his nose. Terry did the same for Ryan.

Now, Mickey thought. He watched as Colin pulled Terry back like a puppet and slammed him to the counter of the bar. People ran to help Ryan and Ian. Suddenly, as Colin began his attack on Terry, a group of three guys came from nowhere. "Get off him!" They yelled. Mickey squinted his eyes in the lights and noticed it was the Alex brothers, Terry's old drug dealer friends, who must've come to the bar to meet him. Mickey pulled a guy off Colin and punched him across the face.

Everyone was at it now. Lip, Mercedes, Iggy Danny and Richie came quickly and everyone was soon beating the shit out of someone. By the time they heard sirens outside, Mickey had a bloody nose and a really hurt knee. The other guys didn't look so good either. Terry was beaten to a pulp by Colin who only had a scratch of blood on his eyebrow. The big guys were fine, while Ian and Ryan were also messes.

"We should get-" Mickey gasped when he saw Colin, who now had Terry on the floor looking like death, with a gun pointed to his head. People screamed and panicked. "Colin!"

Colin loaded the gun as Terry stared up at him with pleading eyes. "Colin... You wouldn't-"

"But I am," Colin interrupted. Mickey quickly ran over and grabbed the gun, pulling it from Colin's hands. "What are you doing?"

"What the fuck, Colin?! We said we weren't gonna kill him!" Mickey yelled over the music.

"I said," Colin growled in his soft yet dangerous voice. "What the fuck, are you doing?"

"You ain't killing him," Mickey stood his guard, glaring at Colin. "Not here. Not now."

"You don't call the shots."

"Oh yeah, but you do? Fuck you, Colin!" Mickey's yell got caught in his throat when Terry's rough hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him down, causing his body to stumble and fall, the gun falling by Terry's feet. Terry scrambled to get it but Colin was quick as he simply put his foot on Terry's hand and pressed down, causing him to scream out. Mickey stood back up and picked up the gun, pointing it at Terry's head. "Fucker! I'm gonna fucking kill you, and your homophobic ass!"

Mickey's voice cracked at the last few words as he readied himself to pull the trigger. "We have to go!" Mickey heard someone behind him yell. Ian. "Mickey, let's go!"

He felt the presence of Ian behind him as his hands shook at the look of fear across Terry's face. Colin was gone, he noticed. He must've left after seeing Mickey pick up the gun. "Mickey?"

Mickey swallowed nervously at the unsure sound in Ian's voice. "What?"

"Put the gun down, Mickey," Ian said softly.

"Fuck off."

"We have to go," Ian insisted in a calm manner.

Mickey loaded the gun as fear flashed across Terry's hazy eyes. "You're gay," Terry blurted. "You're a fucking faggot, that's why you got all riled up, piece of shit."

Mickey's stomach sank, and he felt himself about to throw up. Everything around him was a blur as his body trembled at Terry's words. His hand was shaking like crazy around the gun while Terry gave him a disgusted look. "Just kill me! I'd rather be dead than have a fag for a son!"

Mickey roared angrily and brought his foot down, crushing it against Terry's jaw. "You got a big fucking mouth!" Mickey yelled before bringing Terry up by his collar, then pistol-whipping him with the butt of his gun. Terry fell unconscious as Ian pulled Mickey back.

"Mickey!" Ian yelled, heart beating a thousand miles an hour. He pulled Mickey out of the bar and sprinted down an alleyway. They ran and ran until the sounds of sirens were just a buzz in the back of their heads. The two boys panted, trying to catch their breath. Mickey glanced down at the bloody gun still in his hand and sucked in a deep breath, chucking it into the lake near them. He dropped back against the wall of a building as the gun splashed in the water distantly.

"Where the fuck," Ian said lowly as he walked towards Mickey. "Did the gun come from?"

Mickey contemplated on whether answering the boy or not. Ian gave him a pointed look, just like the one he gave Mickey on the day they first met that said he wasn't letting this go. "Colin pulled it on Terry. I went, 'n grabbed it before he got sent to jail for another thirty years. Then I got fucking fed up with that prick's fat mouth and pulled it on him."

"Would you have done it?" Ian asked quietly. "Pull the trigger, I mean."

"Yes," Mickey replied as he looked up at Ian with an irritated expression. "But you had to be the fucking hero."

"I'd rather have him alive than you in jail for thirty years."

"Who gives a shit? I'd be doing everyone a favor both ways."

"Mickey," Ian said sternly, now only about a foot from the thug. "Don't be like that."

Mickey laughed sarcastically, running his thumb across his bottom lip. "Like what, huh? Like fucking what, Gallagher?!" Mickey walked up to Ian until their foreheads were touching and their hot breaths hit each other's mouths. "Don't act like you know a thing about me, alright? Don't fucking act like you give a shit."

"I do give a shit," Ian bit back, eyes glaring into Mickey's. "I know a fucking lot about you, Mickey."

Mickey closed his eyes. He was loosing it. He can't hold Ian off. And it's not even just about the sex, it's that he can't hold off the feelings he knows Ian has for him. Shit, it makes him feel all fucking flowery and gay inside when Ian says shit like that. He can't hold this kid off, and he can't cut him off.

"Fuck off," Mickey said breathlessly as he pulled away, not really knowing what else to say. He turned around, needing to catch his breath as he felt his lips dry with the want of Ian's mouth.

"Why can't you let someone just... Take care of you?"

"I don't need no fucking keeper," Mickey grumbled.

"Not a keeper, a goddamn friend, Mickey. Care for you, love you-"

"There again with that bullshit," Mickey almost yelled, throwing his arms in the air as he turned around to face Ian again. "This is the motherfucking south side, Gallagher? Did you forget where the shit you live?! Look at us right now, I almost killed my own dad who hates me because I'm- just fucking, leave me be, for god's sake. I'm fine, I don't need anyone, I can take care of my own goddamn self."

"No you can't," Ian said softly. Mickey sighed and squeezed his eyes shut as he dropped back against the wall and slid down until he hit the concrete. He turned his watery eyes to the side and looked out across the glimmering water as Ian sat beside him on the opposite side. "Mickey, I know you hate hearing this, but it's okay to... Not be okay. You can feel sad, you can hate everything, you can feel like shit, but you can't blame it on being who you are. That shit... It ain't right. You're right, we live in the shitty old south side, but that doesn't mean we'll always be here. We don't always end up where we started, Mick. You make mistakes and you get over them."

Mickey felt a smile tug at his lips as he wiped his tears away and looked at Ian, who looked heartbroken as hell. Ian had never seen- shit, nobody had ever seen Mickey Milkovich cry before, yet here he was. Looking vulnerable and just needing to be loved. "Mistakes, huh? Holding a loaded gun at my dad's head, that'll go away?"

Ian smiled softly and put a hand at the back of Mickey's head, threading his fingers through the silky black hair. He leaned forward, a little hesitantly, and kissed Mickey. He felt Mickey's hands fist around his jacket and tilt his head to the side, deepening the kiss. It was the most mutual and intimate thing both boys had ever done, and they loved it. Ian pulled away and wiped his and Mickey's tears away. "It'll be okay."

Mickey put his head on Ian's shoulder and closed his eyes. He was fucked for life. Ian's words were sincere, and Mickey was so thankful Ian had said them to him. It made him feel like somebody understood his pain. He didn't want to hide anymore. But he has to.

He remembered Terry's words at the bar and tensed. He can't put Ian in danger. That was the last thing he needed. Fuck, what does he do? One of them are gonna be killed, and it's either him or Ian, and fuck it if he chose himself every fucking time. Ian didn't deserve this shit.

Mickey pushed himself further into Ian who kissed the top of his head and held his lips there. Mickey would at least enjoy it while it lasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please vote share and comment


	13. I'm breaking

"Thought you got caught," Colin said without even turning towards the door as he puffed on a cigarette, knowing it was Mickey who entered.

Mickey rolled his eyes and gave the dirtiest look he could manage to his eldest brother. "Fuck off, like you give a shit. Why are you even here?"

Ian silently shut the door and made to go upstairs, but Colin thought otherwise. "This your boyfriend?"

Ian reddened as Mickey's skin flushed as he stopped like a deer in the headlights. Mickey turned from where he was grabbing a beer out of the fridge and raised his eyebrows at Colin. "What the fuck?"

Colin just stared at Ian, ignoring Mickey's comment. Ian felt himself sweat under Colin's dangerously calm stare, not knowing how the fuck Colin knew about him and Mickey and how the fuck Colin felt about it. His mouth opened and closed like a fish while he looked at Mickey for support. "I-um-"

Colin picked up the bottle of vodka on the table next to him and downed more than at least three shots worth while never breaking his stare off of Ian. Mickey sighed when he realized how drunk Colin was and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing a stressed fist over them. Colin stood up and stumbled to Ian, trapping him against the wall with one arm blocking him from going anywhere while the other held the bottle of vodka. "Mickey's your bitch, huh?"

Mickey stepped forward, not liking the growl in his elder brother's voice. "Fuck's up with you?"

"Fucking retard," Colin spat at Ian, a lazy hand pressing against Ian's cheek and pushing it, kind of like a tired slap. It didn't hurt, just made Ian stumble to the side with the force. "He was supposed to be dead, but your fire hydrant ass came to save the day."

"What the fuck, man?" Mickey almost yelled, shielding Ian as he stood between the two. Ian was pressed against the fridge now, moving away from Colin.

"You," Colin hissed, slamming the vodka bottle on the counter and bunching Mickey's shirt in his fist as he forcefully shoved him against the wall, making Mickey groan when his head hit the drywall harshly. "You dumb fucking idiot. You useless, stupid, fucking-"

Mickey curled a hand around Colin's hand fisting his shirt and tugged. "What's your problem?"

"We were supposed to kill him!" Colin yelled at the top of his voice, startling everyone in the kitchen. "The entire goddamn plan was to get rid of Terry but you, fucking you of all people stopped me! What the fuck, Mickey?!"

"You would've gone to jail," Mickey replied almost desperately as Colin's strong hand moved to Mickey's throat and tightened.

"I would gladly," Colin said slowly, starting into his youngest brother's eyes. "I would fucking happily rot in jail then rot again in hell, just as long as I knew that prick was dead."

Mickey pushed Colin's large, built body away with all his strength and glanced at Ian who was watching interestedly from his spot at the fridge. Colin stumbled towards him and looped an arm around his shoulders leaning his weight on the boy. "And you, Mr. Hero Gallagher, just came by and stopped Mickey. Which, by the way, you didn't have to. Because the last thing Mickey would have is the balls to kill someone who deserves to be more than just dead."

"Fuck. You," Mickey growled, venom laced through his words as he clenched his fists.

"Why didn't you just kill him, Mickey?" Colin asked, sloppily as he went face to face with his brother. Mickey scrunched his nose at the vile smell of Colin's breath. "Why?"

"I-" Mickey stuttered, Colin's stare making him feel small.

"You didn't want to go to jail?" Colin suggested, raising his eyebrows. His hands quickly came up and gripped Mickey's jaw tightly, bruising into his skin as Mickey yelled in pain. "Why didn't you fucking kill him?!"

"Because I stopped him," Ian blurted in an extremely unconfident voice, not being able to see Mickey in pain. "I wouldn't let him. I took the gun before he shot."

Colin looked at Ian over his shoulder then back at Mickey. "So you would've killed him?"

Mickey slowly nodded.

"Do you realize," Colin laughed as he let go of Mickey, turning to Ian. "How much shit we're in because of you? Terry will kill us, and we didn't find Jamie."

Ian shook his head, "There were too many witnesses-"

Colin picked up a glass cup and clenched his hand around. "Killed a lot of people in my time," he confessed, looking at Ian with an animalistic expression. "Never killed someone with a cup before, though."

Ian didn't have a chance to say anything before the ear piercing sound of glass crashing filled the room, and Colin fell to the floor unconsciously. Mickey breathed harshly through his nose as he held whatever was left of the vodka bottle. Ian glanced down at the blood seeping from cuts on the back of Colin's head and cringed at the pool of vodka and blood forming on the ground. He looked back up at Mickey. "He dead?"

"No," Mickey replied quickly, yet dangerously. He threw the lasting pieces of glass into the trash and hoisted his unconscious brother up, throwing him over his shoulder with a grunt. Ian leant back against the sink, defeated, as he heard another grunt when Mickey dropped Colin on the couch. Soon Mickey tiredly came back into the kitchen, not sparing a glance at the blood on the floor or Ian as he sunk down on the kitchen table. Ian watched the boy who dropped his head in his hands and sighed loudly. Ian bit his lip and bent down, picking up the glass and throwing it in the trash. He carefully picked up a rug and sloshed it through the muddle of blood, vodka and chips of glass. Soon all that was left was a faint stain and the stench. He used the dustpan to clear up the rest of the glass and dropped it in the trash before hesitantly taking a seat with Mickey at the table, who hadn't moved an inch or even spoken. Ian bit the inside of his cheek and lifted his leg, bending it at the knee as he leaned on it for support.

"How the fuck did your siblings not wake up?" Mickey grumbled, still covering his face. Ian perked at the sound of his voice.

"We're used to loud noises at night, you know, Monica and Frank, the train, gunshots," Ian waved his hand around nonchalantly.

"Where's Lip?"

"No idea."

"Listen," Mickey let out a breathy, stressed laugh. "What happened today, I mean everything, forget it. Whoever the fuck that was back there after the Terry thing, wasn't me."

Ian snorted a laugh. "Of course it was you-"

"No, Gallagher, I fucking mean it," Mickey's voice rose. "That faggy, deep shit or whatever, never happened. That ain't me, and it never fucking will be."

Ian sighed, of course Mickey would react like this after Colin's outburst. Ian should've seen it coming. "Whatever man, let's just go to sleep."

Ian stood up but Mickey didn't move, instead rolled his eyes and stared at a spot on the table. Ian scoffed, an unbelieving, and a little insulted, fake smirk on his face. "What? Sleeping in the same room also too 'faggy' for you?"

Mickey shook his head turning away. Ian laughed loudly and outstretched his arms at Mickey's childish actions. "Wow, fucking great, Mickey. I'm sorry everything is so gay for you, piece of shit."

Ian expected Mickey to have some sort of outburst at least, for calling him that, or showing him sass, but he got nothing. Ian's heart clenched a little at the pained and tired creases on Mickey's forehead and the way his body was slumped exhaustedly. He wanted to help, do something, but he knew Mickey wasn't ready. He probably wasn't even going to let Ian touch him.

Ian mouth opened in an apology, but he clenched it shut and went upstairs, dragging his feet. He checked Fiona's room to see that she wasn't there, and then Lip's room to see him dead asleep with bruises and cuts on his face and knuckles, still in his bloody clothes. Ian went to his room and pressed a kiss to Liam's forehead, and running a hand through Carl's hair affectionately. He fell down face forward on his bed and sighed, too exhausted to change. Just as he was about to drift to a peaceful sleep, he felt a rough tap on his shoulder, before a finger began digging into his back.

"What?" Ian groaned into the pillow, turning his head to squint at Frank.

"There's a fucking Milkovich on the couch and another at the table," Frank whispered harshly, as if Ian didn't know. "What the fuck is happening?"

"Fuck off, Frank," Ian replied tiredly, turning his head back.

"Fucking Milkovich's," Frank mumbled drunkenly as he stumbled out of the room and probably to Fiona's room. "Mickey Milko-bitch."

Ian smiled softly into the pillow. 

-

-

-

Mickey ran fast, faster than ever to the one place his mind could think of. His thighs burned like hell and face felt like it was on fire but he couldn't stop, even if he wanted to. He ran up the short steps and banged on the door, not giving a shit that it was close to almost four in the morning.

"What?" Maria barked as she opened the door, then froze when she saw Mickey. "Mikael? What's wrong?"

"You would keep me safe, right?" Mickey almost sobbed, holding his tears in. "If Terry came for me, you wouldn't let him, right?"

"Right," Maria replied seriously, not missing a beat. She pulled her son into the house and shut the door. Mickey looked around the house, seeing that it was cleaner and neater than brfore. He felt home, weirdly. He sunk down on the couch and sighed. Maria came back with a cup of water and sat next to Mickey as she placed it on the coffee table. She put a hand hesitantly on the back of Mickey's head and pushed him until his head was on her shoulder. "Tell me everything, baby."

-

-

-

 

"Ian?"

Ian rolled over on the bed, pressing against the wall as he groaned in annoyance but also at the pain in his stomach and bruised up face.

"Fucking- Ian Gallagher!" Fiona shouted in a whisper, careful not to wake her other brothers. She pushed at Ian until he faced her and gasped when she noticed the condition her brother was in. Fiona marched to Lip's room and threw the covers off of him, anger rising at the bruises and dried blood all over his sleeping body. Lip's eyes opened when the lights flicked on and his mouth also opened in a shout but Fiona beat him to it.

"You better fucking wake up your brother and get your ass downstairs before I lose my shit," Fiona said dangerously before turning and leaving the room.

Soon, Lip, Ian and Fiona all sat at the dinner table. Ian's eyes cautiously flickered every now and then to the faint spot of blood on the kitchen tiles that nobody seemed to notice.

"What the fuck happened?" Fiona exclaimed, nudging her head towards Colin's body on the couch. "Tell me everything."

-  
-

 

-

"Colin is a dangerous boy," Maria sighed after Mickey had explained everything of the last hours to her, leaving Ian out. Mickey squeezed his eyes shut, a weird, almost guilty feeling spurring in his stomach. He tried to push away from Maria, get some air, but he was trapped between her and the armrest of the couch. "You should stay away from him."

"He's my brother," Mickey protested, eyes on the floor uncomfortably. "The drunk side came from Terry."

"Mikael, nobody can ever love you," Maria said as she took Mickey's face in her hands and forced him to look her in the eyes. "As much as a mother can."

Mickey closed his eyes tiredly. "I'm tired."

"Go to sleep baby," Maria smiled as she stood up, pressing a kiss to Mickey's forehead. "You need it."

 

-

 

-

"Jesus," Fiona looked down at the table after Ian and Lip had explained everything. Ian left out the last part with him, Mickey and Colin. Fiona didn't seem to notice until she pointed back at Colin again and furrowed her eyebrows.

"Okay, so why is he here and why is he beat on our couch?" Fiona asked.

"He just came here, had a few drinks and passed out," Ian said quickly.

"And Mickey? Iggy? Those four guys you said were there?"

"We don't know, but I'm pretty sure everyone came out alive," Lip turned to Ian apologetically. "Sorry for dipping on you, but the cops were on our asses."

Ian struggled through a smile. "It's no problem. Got out alive and well, didn't I?"

Fiona stood up and walked to the sink, suddenly shrieking in pain. She glanced at the bottom of her foot and wedged the small shard of glass out, before glancing at the faint blood stain on the floor. She sighed and looked up at the boys. "What the fuck?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please vote share and comment


	14. Shots Fired

The last thing Mickey was doing was listening to whatever bullshit was coming out of Maria's mouth as she made shitty breakfast.

Mickey stared at the wall, the sounds of shouts and Terry's voice from the night before in his ears. All Mickey could do right now was hope that Terry hadn't gotten away from the cops, hoping that a witness at the bar said something about Terry hitting Ian first. Mickey's leg shook nervously. Worst case scenario is Terry's looking for Mickey, having escaped the cops, with a fucking rifle in his hands. Mickey let out a shaky breath. Right now, he has nobody. Colin was a drunk mess last night, which scared the fuck out of Mickey because he's never seen his brother like that before, then Mickey's bitchy attitude told Ian off and obviously the red head hates him now, Iggy- Jesus, is he even alive?

A plate was dropped down in front of Mickey who jumped at the sound of glass hitting the tabletop. Mickey glanced down at the half burnt eggs and whatever the fuck that brown shit beside it was and felt vomit rise in his stomach. Maria used to be a fantastic cooker, she made the best tacos and Mexican shit like that Mickey had ever tasted and of course she lost that talent. Mickey's eyes followed Maria's arms which were covered in needle marks and a tight feeling grasped his chest. He shook his head, mumbling about how he wasn't hungry and bolted out the door, grabbing his jacket with him.

"Mikael!" He heard Maria call but he didn't listen, just ran and ran and ran until he was fucking far away from her. He stopped by a tree and leant against it, breathing harshly through this nose, struggling to catch his breath. Mickey looked around as he gasped, chest tightening. He had nowhere to go. He's officially alone. There's no fucking where for Mickey to stay which means he's now outside and alone open to Terry to beat the fuck out of him. He weirdly almost hoped Terry appeared out of nowhere, and put him out of his misery.

He's more afraid of not being with Ian than he is of Terry.

Mickey shook his head, running a tight hand through his hair as his chest burned in the thought that just flashed through his mind. No, fucking no. His whole life isn't going to get fucked up over whatever the fuck he felt for Ian. Mickey unabashedly threw a kick at the tree he leant on. Now what, he asked himself, now what?

"Mickey fucking Milkovich."

Mickey looked up at the unrecognized voice and squinted in the sunlight as a cop approached him with a toothy grin. The cop had a buzz-cut head and a stubble, with green eyes and clearly was one of those rare lightskins. Mickey stood up straight, ignoring every inch of pain all over his fucking body- physically and mentally- and tilted his chin up in a pathetic attempt to look fierce. The cop didn't fall for it; clearly catching bluff on Mickey's expression.

"You look like you're shitting yourself," the cop laughed, one hand fixing his hat while the other rested on his gun. "Wipe that fucking look off your face before I make you, Milkovich."

Mickey's face dropped, not sure of the expression he was making but he attempted to change it quickly. The cop seemed satisfied as he chewed on his gum with a smirk and nodded curtly. "That's more like it. You're loosing your rep around here, aren't ya?"

Mickey didn't have time for this shit. He rolled his eyes, suddenly wondering why the fuck he was even listening to this random cop. "What the fuck do you want, man?"

"Follow me, Mickey," the cop smirked. "Before things get worse."

Mickey's first reaction was to bolt, since nothing good ever comes out of a dirty cop, which is what this cop obviously was. But the cop, Officer Larkin, had his gun almost pulled out of the waist trap before Mickey could even move. Larkin spat his gum out of his mouth and raised his eyebrows daringly. Mickey slumped his shoulders, walking towards where Larkin guided him to. They ended up walking to the exact same alley Mickey was stabbed in, making Mickey's shoulders tense as he puffed his chest out, absentmindedly covering his abdomen when he noticed the stain of his blood on the floor.

"Why the fuck did you bring me here?" Mickey asked roughly, starting to feel sick. Larkin snorted amusedly.

"You didn't report anything, didn't even make it a case," Larkin said, which caused Mickey to shut his eyes and groan while he spoke. "Was it a gang hit, Milkovich?"

"Fuck the fuck off," Mickey spat, turning to face Larkin. "I'm leaving. Fucking waste of my time."

"Like you've got anywhere to go," Larkin laughed yet again. Mickey raised his eyebrows. How the fuck did he know that? "What? You think we didn't hear about the boy's town fight?"

Mickey's mouth dried up. "You-"

"It doesn't take a genius to know you can't go home, since you know, Terry got away without charges," Larkin informed. Mickey's heart sank. Of course. "So, where're you staying now?"

"You know it was me, you know it was Terry, why the fuck am I not in prison?"

"Nobody pressed charges, just a small bar fight," Larkin rolled his eyes. "Shit, even the fucking owners of the club were scared so shitless of you Milkovich's they didn't want to press charges."

Mickey's never before wished that somebody would press charges against him, but right now it was a hopeless wish. He looked down at the ground then traveled his eyes up Larkin's uniformed body. "So, what do you want from me? A fucking confession?"

Larkin took a deep breath and adjusted his hat on his head again, which Mickey took as a sign of nervousness. "Do you want to find the man who stabbed you?"

Mickey's eyes widened a little before he shook his head, beginning to walk away again back into the sunlight. "Not in my best interest right now."

Larkin stood amazed as Mickey began to walk away. "Wait! Not in your best interest? The guy who almost killed you, you don't want to find him?"

"I got a lot more problems to solve instead of some fucking wise ass who decided to clear the world from it's sins by stabbing me in the goddamn stomach, alright?"

"A lot more problems?" Larkin laughed sarcastically. "A lot more problems aside from the man who tried to fucking kill you?"

"You'd be surprised how many people want me dead right now."

"Listen-"

"You know where he is?" Mickey's voice boomed in the dark, empty alley aside from the two men standing at a distance. "You got full 100% proof that he's the fuck who tried to kill me?"

"He was seen on cameras fleeing the scene while shoving gloves into his pockets, and witnesses that were around when the accident happened saw him leave the alleyway in a hurry," Larkin replied with a satisfied smile. "We were told to put the case to sleep since when the victims, like yourself, don't file a report or take it to court after two days of unsuccessful search."

"So, you didn't find him?" Mickey asked, clearing the air. "You have no idea where he is?"

"You can come take a look, see if you recognize him," Larkin said. "We need you to come see."

"Let me just fuckin' think about it, alright?" Mickey proposed, just wanting Larkin to fuck off. "I'll let you know."

"Good," Larkin smiled and handed Mickey a card. "Just, uh- give a call soon, okay?"

Mickey shoved the card in his pocket carelessly as Larkin turned to walk away. He stood in the alley for a while longer, analyzing the stain of blood. He noticed something strange though, the way there will splatters of blood dripping past in a certain direction. "The fuck?" Mickey mumbled as he followed it, the drops becoming smaller and fainter. He was let to two large garbage dumps by each other at the end of the alley behind a small shawarma place and plugged his nose. They were both bolted shut, obviously meaning they had been used a while ago and the garbage was left inside. Mickey stared at them before shaking his head. What the fuck was he, a detective?

His feet led him to Kash 'n Grab, not really knowing where else to go. Mickey was extremely hesitant, his eyes flickering back and forth as he walked head down through the streets. Every time he thought of how Terry wasn't in prison and instead out for Mickey's blood he ran cold and shivered a little. He hated the effect that piece of shit had on him. He hated that he gave Terry the satisfaction of causing him to physically think terrifying ways of murder which honestly probably made Mickey a little fucking psychotic. He hated the fact that Terry made him hate.

Mickey stood outside of the grocery shop. It was open, but nobody was inside. The counter was empty. His shift had started about half an hour ago, and usually Mickey would probably end up not showing up and trying to persuade Ian to just call in sick or something, but right now he had nowhere else to fucking go. So he opened the door, listening to it jingle before listening to it shut behind him. The low Arabian music filled his ears as he waited for someone to come out, say something. Maybe even for Linda to come shout at him for being late.

Nobody came. It was weird. Mickey stalked slowly to the back, an uneasy feeling filling up his stomach. Had Terry followed Ian? Was he here right now? Mickey's feet told him to just fucking run for it, but his heart sped at the thought of Ian being in trouble, or worse- dead. He heard a humming, and the sound of something loud dropping repeatedly. His breath sped up, heart thimping, mind dizzy as he pulled back the drape and-

Ian had headphones in, and was stacking boxes of fruit one on top of the other, making the thumping sound. He hummed and bobbed his head, and Mickey was a little fucking pissed about how Ian could be all happy and fine the next day while Mickey felt, looked, and probably smelt like shit since he was too fucking stressed and worried to even take a shower.

Ian noticed Mickey finally and pulled his headphones out, wide eyes trailing over Mickey's three day old outfit of a dirty black tank top, a sweater and fucked up jeans. The two boys stared at each other, not knowing what to say, though there was so much going on in their heads.

"Hey," Ian said finally with a small, soothing smile. Mickey's breathing slowly went back to normal.

"Hey," Mickey replied in the same tone, but without a smile. Ian put his music away and tugged Mickey's security vest off the beat up coat rack and threw it at Mickey who caught it midair. Honestly, under normal Mickey circumstances and the situations he was in right bow, Mickey should have dipped, ran far away while he still could, but Ian's grin and enthusiasm made him stay. As much as he wanted to, Mickey felt like he couldn't ignore him. he can't push him away.

There's no doubt that Terry was looking for them right now. And that he'd come to Kash 'n Grab since he'd somehow find out that Mickey and Ian worked there. Still, Mickey couldn't find the willpower to leave. He told Ian about the cop, Larkin, but only about the Terry details and left out the stabbing shit. Ian told him that Linda was with her kids for the day and Kash just wasn't around. They didn't speak about last night, despite having to. They should, honestly. But Mickey didn't want to ruin their quiet atmosphere right now- no doubt it would start up a fight if Mickey brought it up.

"Colin left in the morning, so," Ian had informed Mickey while they stood at the counter. Mickey didn't look up from his magazine. "You know... We never did find Jamie."

Mickey looked up, blinking. Jamie. Fucking Jamie! He had completely forgotten about the sole purpose of the fight with Terry. "Oh, fuck," Mickey blurted, chest tightening. "Fuck."

"Are you okay?" Ian got up quickly and dashed to Mickey's side, catching him before he fell. "It's okay, Mick. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, just calm down. It's all going to be okay."

After about ten minutes (Ian was counting in his ear to calm him, which surprisingly worked) Mickey felt relaxed at last and could breathe normally. He felt his neck and face heat up at the way Ian had him in a side hug, his face pressed into Ian's red shirt. There were tear stains on the shirt that Mickey didn't bother hiding. "The fuck was that?"

"I think you had a panic attack, Mickey, they're very common," Ian replied with a grin, moving away. He didn't acknowledge the tears stains on his shirt- which honestly Mickey could kiss him for. Mickey shook his head and put the magazine back on the rack with shaky hands.

"We gotta find Colin," Mickey said after a while of silence. "You know where Iggy is?"

"Didn't see him but he'll probably be at the house later," Ian replied. "He told me last night that Terry had only seen me, you and Colin. Lip and the others had covered their faces and stayed away from Terry."

"We need a plan," Mickey decided, rapping his finger against the counter. "Text your brother, say meet up at yours when our shift finishes. We'll go find Iggy and Colin, but we gotta keep our heads down."

"Why hasn't Terry come after us?"

Mickey stared at Ian. "I don't know. What I do know is there's no way he isn't at least planning some shit right now. He is not going to let this slide. Fuck no, that's not even an option. We gotta keep safe."

Ian nodded. They went back to their usual quietness. "Did you-" Ian stopped, hesitating, before sighing and deciding to just get over it. "Did you mean what you said last night?"

Mickey itched for a cigarette as he struggled for an answer. But before he could reply, the sound of shattering glass cut his breath when he saw Ian's eyes bulge out of his head and blood hit the counter. Mickey leaned over the counter and felt his eyes full with tears of fright. They got him. They got Ian. Ian. Ian. Wake up. Talk to me, Ian.

More fires shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please vote share and comment


	15. I need you

Mickey's eyes were just opening when he saw Ian get thrown on the table, screams erupting from his mouth. Mickey wobbled up, a little dizzy, and clambered towards Ian who was surrounded by people at the table. They were in the Gallagher house, thank god. Mickey put his hand on someone's shoulder and peeked over, staring down at Ian who was on his front, yelling curses as some doctor (Mickey wasn't really sure, but the guy wore a white lab coat and looked pretty sure with his tools and badge) tried to carefully take the bullet out of Ian's upper left thigh. Mickey felt himself gag at the amount of blood and what he'd done to Ian and turned around, hurling whatever was left in him all over the floor. Everyone noticed and either screamed or whined, and soon Mickey was being dragged back to the couch. Lip and Iggy tossed him on it, saying something with fingers pointed at Mickey's face sternly. It was inaudible for Mickey, he didn't understand or hear a fucking word they said. His ears were still ringing from the shooting. He felt his head loll to the side then he felt himself slowly slip away and off the couch.

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"He's awake."

Mickey scrunched his eyebrows and opened his eyes, a bitter taste in his mouth and crusted blood all over his hands and clothes. He shot up, blabbering. "Where- where's Ian- he, oh fuck, he got-"

"Mickey, calm down," Fiona said softly, placing a hand on Mickey's shoulder. "He's fine, he's resting upstairs. They got him in the upper left thigh."

"Fucking bullet went right through his leg," Iggy mumbled from where he was lighting a cigarette near the stairs. Mickey twisted his head to look at him before sighing and dropping his head in his dirty hands.

"What happened?" Mickey asked, despite the fact that everyone else was wondering the same thing.

"You tell us," Lip laughed sarcastically. "We find you running down the fucking street with my brother bleeding out and screaming in pain, then we come back here and you don't know what fucking happened-"

"Lip," Fiona stopped him sternly, raising a hand towards him. Lip cowered and shook his head unbelievingly. Mickey glanced back in the kitchen to see the blood all cleaned and the table spotless. He bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath.

"It was Terry's guys."

The entire group turned to Colin, who Mickey didn't even notice was standing by the door. He walked in closer, his clothes also covered in blood. He looked guilty, and extremely anxious for someone his size. He gave his youngest brother an apologetic frown and shoved his hands in his jeans. Mickey scoffed, not forgetting the events of last night. "How the fuck do you know?"

"Who the fuck do you think got you here before you and Ian both died?" Colin snapped back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I was walking to Kash 'N Grab to, you know... then shots fired and I ran inside after the car drove away. They screamed, 'just a taste from Terry, faggots!' and dipped. You were already sprinting out the back with Ian in your arms by the time I got to you."

"Fucking, fuck, fuck," Mickey cursed as he felt himself tense even more.

"What the fuck do we do now?" Lip asked seriously, staring straight at Mickey who was eying the ground nervously.

"We gotta fight back," Iggy said like it was obvious. "Either we die or die tryin'."

"We ain't gonna fucking die, man," Colin growled. He crossed his arms and stood next to the couch. "First things first we find Jamie."

"Where the hell is he?" Mickey asked, looking up. "Bitch disappeared in thin air. Terry woulda killed him if he had him."

The entire group went dead silent. "Do you think..." Lip started but Fiona cut him off quickly.

"There's no way Terry would kill him and not tell you guys," she reassured them. "If we give up now, we'll be fucking meat for sure."

"Ideas?" Mickey inquired, looking at all the guys.

"Linda," Lip snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up. "She'll be fucking pissed about her store. She could say that she heard what the guys in the car said, and tell the cops. They'll ask Terry some questions and look at her surveillance cameras, you know prove that it was some of Terry's friends."

"Okay, but do you really think she'd snitch after finding out it was Terry?" Iggy questioned.

"I think as long as she gets some cash to rebuild the glass, she'll be happy snitching anyone out," Lip replied. The men all eyed each other warily. Fiona was watching intently as they all ran over the idea in their minds.

"Okay, lets just say that goes wrong. What's Plan B?" Mickey queried.

"Plan B is we find Terry's ass, stab him, and drop him in the fucking river," Iggy said roughly. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm over pussying around and not just doing the damn job and getting it over with. Terry's got to fucking go."

"What about Maria?" Colin suddenly said. Everyone turned to him with bewildered looks; the last person in the world who would fight back against Terry would be Maria- she loves him, for some fucking reason. "She could find out where Jamie is."

Mickey eyed his eldest brother. "How?"

"She'll go back to him, you know, her usual. And he'll let her back in, don't worry. Eventually, if we can get her to try hard enough she can figure out where the fuck Terry has Jamie."

"How do we even know Terry has Jamie?"

"He does," Colin reassured seriously, a deadly look in his eye. "I know it."

Lip stood up straight. "But if he doesn't?"

"He fucking does, alright? I feel it." Colin grimaced and looked over at Mickey, biting his chapped lips. "I gotta talk to you."

Nobody in the room moved. Colin rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "In like, private or whatever."

Mickey stood up and walked upstairs, feeling Colin on his tail. They stopped by Debbie's door, where Mickey leant against the Justin Bieber posters and raised an eyebrow at Colin. "What?"

"I was there, when Terry said that thing about you being a fag, I heard it," Terry said, dangerously serious. Mickey felt his body heat profusely and averted eye contact nervously. "This isn't good, Mick. You might've just put Ian in trouble."

"He's been in trouble since the second he fuckin' met me," Mickey barked back.

"This is Terry trouble. Look, I'm just saying-"

"I should've just let you kill him," Mickey sighed regretfully, running a stressful hand over his face. "Who the fuck told me to stop you?"

Colin blinked at Mickey, wondering where this was all coming from, so sudden. "Yeah," he agreed after a few minutes of silence. "You shoulda."

Mickey crossed his arms and looked down the narrow hall at Ian's door. "How uh... how bad was it? When you found us?"

Colin stared at Mickey again, making him feel a little nervous. "Mickey, you got the top of your ear shot off, Ian was passed out from shock, and woke back up with a fucking bullet in his thigh screaming in pain while you threw up everywhere and passed out on the couch. It was pretty fucking bad, if you ask anyone."

"Okay, alright smart-ass. We're both alive," Mickey replied in a snark tone. He raised his hand carefully to feel the top of his right ear, which he now noticed was throbbing. There was gauze around it, but he could feel that the top of the cartilage was snapped off. It was a little disgusting. He sighed, running a hand over his face for what felt like the hundredth time. "Anything else?"

Colin swallowed nervously. "About last night... I really-"

Mickey waved his hand, cutting Colin off abruptly. "Whatever, man. It's in the past, just forget it even happened, alright?"

Colin nodded hurriedly, silently thankful. "I just want you to know I was drunk."

Mickey nodded, looking Colin up and down. "Yeah. I got that part."

Colin pat Mickey's shoulder, then held his hand on Mickey's cheek lovingly before turning around and going back downstairs. Mickey didn't spare a second and walked to Ian's room, opening the door to find Ian with his back to him on the bed and Carl reading a porn magazine on his bed. Mickey took the magazine and threw it outside. "Out."

Carl rolled his eyes and jumped off the bunk, shutting the door behind him. Ian struggled to turn around, not making eye contact with Mickey who sat at the edge of the bed. Mickey's hand pushed the blanket away, fully aware that Ian was only in boxers and a tank top. He slid his hand up Ian's bare leg silently and caressed the bullet wound that was covered with gauze. Ian sucked in a deep breath when Mickey touched the wound. Mickey felt his eyes fill with tears as he dropped his head on Ian's knee, silently crying.

After a minute or two he felt Ian's fingers thread in his hair as he wet Ian's leg with tears. "Mickey," he whispered brokenly, trying to get the boy to look up at him. "Mickey, please."

Mickey's head shot up as he leaned forward, firmly pressing his lips to Ian's. He didn't move their lips, instead just kept them in place, savouring the taste of Ian in his mouth. Ian's hand never left his hair and he didn't push, instead they breathed each other in and only broke apart when they needed air.

"I'm sorry," Mickey mumbled as he dropped his head against Ian's chest. "I'm sorry I got you into this shit, I'm sorry you're like this now, I'm sorry-"

Ian hushed him, kissing the side of Mickey's face. "Shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please vote share and comment


	16. New Addition to the Family

Mickey's eyes opened exhaustedly as he sighed, wiping at the drool slipping from his chin as he glared at his ringing phone. He looked down at where Ian's arm was sprawled across his waist and he slowly reached over and picked his phone up, squinting at the unknown number and groaning.

"If you pick that up, I'll kill you," Ian slurred tiredly as he shoved his face into the back of Mickey's neck. Mickey rubbed a balled up fist in his eye as he yawned, answering the call. It was merely three in the morning, and if this call is a scam he will kill a mother fucker.

"Hm?" He moaned tiredly into the phone as he sat up. Ian grumbled disapprovingly and smacked Mickey's shoulder before turning so his back was to Mickey. Mickey paid no attention to it.

"Mickey?"

Mickey jumped at the sound of Jamie's voice and hissed when his toe hit the corner of the bed. He bit his lip and sucked in a breath of pain, trying to not catch Ian's attention as he tiptoed off the bed and limped out into the hall. After shutting the door quietly behind himself, he breathed into the phone. "J-James?"

"Fuck- finally, I've been trying to get ahold of you for ages, man."

"Where in the fuck are you? Do you know about all the shit that's gone down?"

Jamie let out a breathless chuckle. "You have no idea. I- uh, its been a ride, man."

"You wanna explain?" Mickey whispered. He reopened the door to pick up a random shirt off the ground while holding the phone between his shoulder and cheek. He slipped in on in the dark, trying not to make any sound to wake Ian. "Let's meet up."

"I- I," Jamie paused hesitantly. "Where?"

"I know a safe place," Mickey mumbled while tying his shoelaces. "Can I text the address?"

"I'm at a fucking phone booth in the middle- no, just tell me the address and I'll catch a cab."

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Mickey walked inside the diner, taking a seat at the second booth, just like planned. It was four in the morning, so naturally there was literally nobody but an old man and one waitress at the counter. The waitress tiredly walked up to Mickey with a smile. "Hey luv, can I get ya anything?"

"Coffee, thanks," Mickey grumbled as he slid further into the booth. A few minutes later he heard the doors jingle, and he didn't even have to turn around to know it was Jamie. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath, re-opening them when he felt a presence beside him. He stared straight ahead while Jamie stood next to him, fists clenching and un-clenching. He motioned to the spot ahead of him.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at the sunglasses Jamie was wearing and waved his hand toward the dark night outside. "You gonna take those off or look like a dumb-ass a while longer?"

Jamie ignored him and crossed his arms. Mickey sighed. "Jamie where the fuck have you been?"

"Terry," Jamie started. "Is a crazy mother-fucker, alright? He fucking, fucking kidnapped me! Who the hell does that do their own kid? The shit he pulled-"

"Jamie, James," Mickey interrupted softly when Jamie started losing his breath. Mickey lightly rested his hand on his brother's arm. "Hey, take a deep breath okay? It's alright. Everything's okay now."

The waitress set a cup of steaming coffee ahead of Mickey. "One for him too," Mickey mumbled.

Jamie glared at the waitress until she was gone. "Nothing is OK, Mick. Nothing. It's all over. We got nothing. He's gonna kill us..."

"Jamie, what the hell are you talking about?" Mickey asked, heart beat rising. "He can't touch us."

"He ain't gonna have a fag for a son," Jamie spat at Mickey. "Do you know who has to fucking suffer for your sexual changes, Mickey? Me, fucking me! I don't even have anything to do with whoever you fuck, but because of you- fucking you!"

The turmoil feeling rose in Mickey's stomach again. "W- what?"

Jamie laughed sarcastically. "Now he plays dumb!" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Do you know what Terry did to me when he found out you were a fag? To me? He blamed me, said I didn't raise you right. Said it should've been me in prison, because Colin would've beat the faggot out of you if he didn't spend so much time around gays in jail."

"What did he do?" Mickey blurted.

Jamie's mouth trapped shut. "Fuck this, what was the use of coming here anyway?" He stood up to leave, but Mickey grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Whatever the hell Terry's planning, we gotta stop him," Mickey tried finding Jamie's eyes through the sunglasses. "There are so many lives in danger because of him and this shit has gone on way too long for us to ignore it again. There's also fucking Maria, so we all need to step our fuckin' games up and face this thing for once."

"I don't even know what the hell is going on," Jamie half-shouted, throwing his arms in the air. "I literally don't even know how any of this even started!"

"I'll explain everything," Mickey glanced nervously around the room. He lifted his shirt to show his brother the scar dragged across his abdomen. Jamie's jaw dropped a little.

"He's gonna fuck us all up, man."

"Colin thinks this was... Maria."

Jamie paused. "I wouldn't be surprised like, if it was. But don't you think that's reaching a little bit?"

Mickey shrugged. "I don't know. Some cop came up to me the other day though, Officer Larkin. Gave me his card and said he had security tapes of the guy who stabbed me. I might go and check it out."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Jamie asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I mean- wont that just cause more problems for you already?"

"Yeah. But honestly, with all the shit I've handled and am handling, finding this prick would get a lot off my shoulders."

"Mickey," Jamie said softly as the two brothers sat back down at their booth. "You know, there's always the option to just fucking dip, and leave. We ain't being forced to stay here. Move to NY, get a job or some shit, fuck Chicago. What we gotta lose anyway?"

Ian. "James..."

"Why we risking our lives anyway? Let's just go. We don't need anybody here. Skip town, go to the next. You know somethin' Mick... I got a girl in NY. She'll let us stay in here apartment until we find our own. It's a little tight but we've been through worse-"

"Wait, wait," Mickey laughed, interrupting Jamie. "You would rather we just fucking leave our problems behind us like pussies than just get this shit over with?"

"You gonna live with a good conscious knowing you killed Terry?"

"Hell yeah, fuck him. I'll live problem free knowing he's dead. Why you actin' like I never killed nobody before?"

"You haven't, asshole. You ain't Colin, you ain't me and you ain't Terry. Even Iggy hasn't killed a guy- concussions don't count. You don't know what killing does to you. You'll never get it."

Mickey leaned forward. "My one goal in life, is to murk that son of a bitch. I'm not gonna mourn over his ass, I'll celebrate. Fuck. Him."

"Think about it like this, Mick. Who is gonna mourn, huh? Who is the one person still up his ass?"

Mickey paused, "Maria."

"Exactly. You kill Terry, you're gonna have to kill Maria too. You wanna kill both your parents? Go ahead. But you ain't never gonna fucking believe what I figured out from Terry."

"What?"

Jamie took a deep breath, "Maria and Terry, they got another kid. All those drug runs, all those disappearing weeks, it was Terry going to visit Maria while she was in New York. They had a kid fourteen years ago, another daughter. But get this, Maria put the kid up for adoption, obviously. Her broke and illegal ass cant afford that shit. The girl's foster-parents both died and Maria put Terry's number down on the adoption papers, so Terry gets a call a few days ago from the adoption agency or some shit asking if the parents want this teen back. There's a whole long, sad sob story from Maria to the girl who obviously is broken about her foster parents and is willing to go back to her real ones anytime now. The girl loves Terry and Maria. She fucking adores them. She don't know about us. She ain't got single fucking clue that she has five other siblings. You wanna take her parents away from her again, go for it. But I saw her, and shit, you gotta be some cold-hearted fuck to make her feel like shit again."

"Jamie," Mickey sighed, rubbing his face in exhaust. "Shit. I would rather let the girl have no parents rather than have parents like Terry and Maria who will fucking ruin her. They're psychopaths. She's better off without them."

"Then she lives in a foster home for the rest of her life?"

"I don't care, man. She'll do what she's gotta do. It ain't my business or yours."

"She's your sister."

"I don't know her. The only sister I- we got is Mandy. I ain't calling no failed abortion my sister."

Jamie furrowed is eyebrows. "The fuck is wrong with you, fucking asshole? She's a teenage girl. She needs family. We are her family. Blood bound, bitch."

"No, what we need right now is a plan. We don't have time to fuck with some girl-"

"Fuck you and your plans!" Jamie hissed in a whisper, jaw clenched. "You know where your fucking plans got me? Huh? You got any fucking clue?"

Before Mickey could say anything, Jamie ripped his sunglasses off. Stunned, Mickey stared at his brother's right eye for minutes, mouth open with no words coming out. Mickey's face went red, his body shook in anger and fear, his eyes squinted in disgust. Across his brother's eye was a knife slash, scarring right diagonally across with a deep, red mark. His mouth went dry. "How..."

"He pinned me down, conscious," Jamie fought tears. "Dug it right in my eye, hurt so bad my body went numb and I couldn't feel shit anymore. Passed out. Woke up in a hospital with no right eye. That's how I got here. Spent two weeks in the hospital talking to cops and doctors. I want that fucker dead just as much as you do. But I wanna do something about that girl first."

Mickey put Jamie's glasses back over his eyes after taking a large gulp. "Why, man? Why does she matter?"

"She saved my life. She was in the hospital. She didn't know Terry did it, though. She kept asking, who did it, who did it. I didn't say nothing. Couldn't. She's reliable and shit, she knows kickboxing too. Pretty damn good. I don't want her around Terry. He told me he's going to... fuck..."

"What?"

"Rape her. Get her pregnant. He's a sick fuck, I don't know why he'd do that but shit.. he said he wants more kids. Mickey brother, I'm begging you. We gotta help her."

"Okay," Mickey sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "We'll figure something out, but first I'm getting some bandage on your eye man."

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It was around six by the time the brothers got back to the Gallagher house. Mickey wrapped gauze he found on the table around Jamie's head like an eyepatch while telling him all about the club fight, and the shootout involving Ian. Also about Colin. Jamie apparently had seen Colin only once before Terry kidnapped him.

"Hey- oh, Jamie," Lip said when he came jogging down the stairs around seven. Mickey and Jamie were talking and drinking coffee. Lip eyed the eyepatch on Jamie before smiling. "What's up man?"

"Get Iggy and Colin. We got shit to discuss," Jamie grumbled. Lip nodded and was gone in a second. After aa few minutes the four boys sat around the dinner table while Jamie explained everything he had told Mickey. Mickey also brought up the officer.

"Where should we start?" Lip asked.

"The girl," Colin said, eyes on the table. "Let's get her out. We do anything to piss off Terry before getting her, he'll take it out on the girl. What's her name, by the way?"

"Never told me. Terry didn't say because he probably forgot and she assumed I knew it. I heard someone call her A once," Jamie replied.

"So the girl. Jamie can take us there, right?" Jamie nodded at Iggy's words. "Good. Then what?"

"Then we deal with Terry ASAP. The longer we hold him off after getting the girl, the worse. After that we'll see if Maria has anything to say about it. If she has a problem, we'll get rid of her too."

"This isn't a fucking game of chess," Lip exclaimed. "It's gonna be harder than just getting rid of her."

"I never said it wouldn't be," Colin replied calmly.

"What do we do with the girl?" Mickey questioned.

"Take her in, she's family," Iggy suggested. Colin and Jamie grunted in agreement.

"Your friend, the cop, he comes last. We'll find the prick who stabbed you soon enough," Jamie said to Mickey who nodded idly in reply.

"Speaking of friends, Red ain't going anywhere with that busted leg," Colin informed Mickey. "He's done." Everybody agreed.

"Alright, let me just go tell him that. And get some fucking sleep, been up since four." With that Mickey started up the stairs but came face to Ian who was on busted up crutches and about to come down the stairs with a wince on his face. "What the fuck, Ian?"

"I heard you guys were planning shit, let me in on it," Ian hurried. Mickey wrapped an arm over Ian's shoulders and helped him back to his room.

"Nope. You're done. You cant do shit with that leg of yours, man. Don't take it personally," Mickey grunted as he laid Ian back down, perching his injured leg up carefully. Mickey still sat and explained all the details of the plan after Ian's constant begging.

"Jamie's back, and a new sister," Ian chuckled, then grunting in pain. "This sucks, man. I wanted to like, be out there with you guys."

"Shut up, you're lucky you get to fucking sleep all day. I need sleep," Mickey yawned and leaned his head back against the wall as Ian put his leg on his lap.

"Go to sleeeeeep," Ian hummed to which Mickey slapped his leg.

"Shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please vote share and comment


	17. A

"Listen, all you gotta do is go back to the hospital, pretend you never left. Terry won't even know."

"I don't want to go back to him," Jamie mumbled, hands unwrapping the bandage from his eye. Mickey cringed and turned his head away while his brother tied a new bandage around his wound. When he finished, he pushed past Mickey and shivered. "Alright. I'm going, but you better fucking be there."

"We will man," Mickey reassured his brother.

Jamie nodded and took one last breath before leaving the Gallagher house. Mickey closed the door and walked back to the kitchen where Gallagher and the rest of his brothers were. Iggy looked up from where he was loading his piece at the table. "He gone?"

"Yeah," Mickey replied. He watched Iggy and Colin hide their pieces in their jeans while Lip stared with wide eyes.

"Alright, sooner we get this over with, the motherfuckin' better," Iggy said as he rolled his shoulders, staring at Mickey. Mickey nodded in reply and gathered himself.

"Sooner we get this over with the less pain Jamie has to go through," Lip mumbled, probably supposed to be loud enough for only him to hear but Mickey heard it loud and clear. He side glanced Lip nastily before shoving out the back door, the boys hot on his tail.

"Aren't you gonna say bye to Ian?" Lip whispered when he jogged to Mickey's side, struggling to keep up with the fast pace.

"He ain't my fucking kid, he'll last without me," Mickey grunted.

Lip slowed down, falling behind. Mickey paid no attention, he had no time, for they rushed as quickly as they could to the address Jamie gave them that contained the place where Terry was. 

"What if the girl's at the hospital?" Iggy asked.

"Then Jamie gives us a call and we head there instead," Colin replied.

"I really don't like this..." Lip's voice wavered in the back as the boys piled into Iggy's beat up car. "It's a shitty plan."

"You got a better idea?" Mickey snapped, fed up as he turned to face Lip in the back and raise his eyebrows. Lip's mouth shut as he refrained from talking back, since he could read the stress and anger on Mickey's face from his baggy eyes and paler-than-before skin. He was afraid. He was scared, just like Lip. They all were.

After another minute of silence and tension Iggy started up the car and sped off towards the address while Mickey gave directions. Other than the sound of Mickey's robotic voice and the grubby engine it was complete silence. They all jumped when Mickey's phone rang.

"What?" Mickey barked into the speaker, not having checked the ID.

"Milkovich, it's Officer Larkin. You gotta come down to the station right now."

"Can it fucking wait? I'm busy."

Mickey could sense the heat of glares off the other guy's in the car and he turned of the speaker, pressing the phone against his ear just as Larkin replied. "It's important, about your stabbing-"

"Listen man, I already told you to just forget about it, alright? I don't give a fuck anymore. Don't fucking call me again."

Iggy snorted when Mickey hung up. "Somebody enjoy the dick too much?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up. Take a left here."

"A fucking cop, huh?" Colin scoffed. Mickey ignored him.

When they turned onto the street, Iggy parked the car a few houses away from the address. Lip and Mickey got out, while Colin and Iggy stayed in the car. "Straight to the hospital," Mickey said as he held hard eye contact with Colin. "Jamie might be needing you right now."

"We know," Iggy replied. Mickey nodded and pat the roof of the car, watching it speed away. Mickey looked at Lip and pulled the gun out from his waist, cocking it. Lip opened his mouth but said nothing, instead quietly followed Mickey as they ran to the house.

"Shouldn't we go around or something?" Lip asked. "The point is to not be caught."

"Shut up and trust me for a second," Mickey grunted. Mickey took a deep breath, shaking himself off before pounding his fist against the door. Lip tensed, ready to bolt if the wrong person opened the door. Mickey shook the hand that held the gun and twisted his neck, cracking it. The door swung open.

Luckily, Lip's hand caught Mickey's wrist, the one of the hand that held the gun, before he could accidentally point it at the young girl's head in reflex. She stood at the door, in a black t-shirt, jeans and black shoes, looking at the two men with confused eyes. "Hi?"

"Terry in?" Lip asked, hand tightening around Mickey's wrist. Mickey slowly inched his hand behind his back, hiding the gun between his shirt and inside his jeans, the cold metal pressed against his back. The girl glanced down at where Lip's hand followed Mickey's back.

"I should warn you," the girl shifted on one leg to the other. "Terry doesn't like... Gay people. So."

Lip's mouth dropped as he pulled his hand away quickly, crossing his arms while Mickey clenched his jaw. "Fuck off, we're related. Where the fuck is Terry?"

"I don't know," the girl narrowed her eyes at Mickey. "Who the fuck are you, exactly?"

"Do you remember Jamie?" Lip asked loudly, stopping Mickey from talking back.

"Yeah, is he alright?"

"No," Mickey barked. He sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow. "Listen, Terry ain't who you think he is. He hurt Jamie, and he's gonna hurt you too. You gotta come with us."

"Who are you guys?"

Lip side glanced at Mickey who stared at the girl, breathing deeply. Mickey squatted down until he was at her height and glanced into the house. "I'm your brother. So is Jamie. Terry's our dad, and he's fucking psychotic. So, unless you wanna die tomorrow, you should come with us."

The girl's mouth opened slightly and she turned her head inside the house, looking hesitant and worried. Weirdly, not afraid. Lip's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at this- but he soon realized a moment later why she was like this. "You... You knew what Terry was, didn't you? And Jamie was your brother?"

She met Lip's eyes, her brown ones filled with strength and guilt. "Yes... I- I saw what he did to Jamie, been confused as hell ever since then. It's not exactly easy to get out of their sight nowadays. One of the guys let it slip that Jamie was my brother. I was-"

"Where are they?" Mickey interrupted.

"Backyard is where three of them are, drunk and high. Terry's not here, neither is Jim or the others."

Lip swallowed nervously. "How many are there?"

"Eleven, last time I counted."

"There's gotta be some at the hospital," Mickey sighed. "C'mon, let's go." He looked at the girl. "You comin' or not? What's your name anyway?"

"OK," the girl nodded. "I'm Mickey."

Lip and Mickey's eyebrows shot up.

"That's.. your real name?" Asked Lip.

"No, but Terry changed my name to that. Weird, I know, but whatever. He said he likes it."

Mickey felt sick to the stomach. Sweat dribbled down his forehead as he turned around, back to the girl and Lip. He ran a hand over his face, feeling his eyes fill with tears. "What's your real name?" He asked, voice cracking.

"My, it's uh- Emri."

"That's your fucking name then," Mickey bit harshly. He turned his head to the side, feeling two pairs of eyes burning into the side of his face. "I'm Mickey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please vote share and comment


	18. Siblings or Lover?

"Mickey!"

Mandy fell into Mickey's arms as he entered the forgotten Milkovich home. Mickey caught his sister with his heart aching in his chest as he hugged her close, her being the only sibling of his safe so far. Mandy pulled back and smiled up at Mickey, before noticing Emri and giving a confused look. "Oh, is this-"

"Emri, this is your sister Mandy, Mandy this is your sister Emri," Mickey introduced them to one another, awkwardly standing between them. Emri smiled as did Mandy. Another girl, they both thought. Thank God.

"Mandy, where did you last see Ian?" Mickey asked, grabbing Mandy's shoulders.

"I heard them break into the house and I went upstairs from the basement, just getting an eye of Terry as he went up the stairs. I grabbed Fiona and told her to get Liam, thank god Debs and Carl weren't home, but I could already hear Ian's shouts and I knew it was too late. I didn't know what to do so I sent Fi and Liam to Veronica's house, where they are now, and watched them drag Ian into a car and take him away. I don't know where."

"What did the car look like?" Lip asked.

"It was pretty run-down, black Honda or something," Mandy pulled her phone out. "I got a pic of the license plate but it's pretty blurry."

Emri took the phone and zoomed in on the picture. "If the car has a GPS system installed, we could track it."

"That old piece of shit? I doubt it has a fuckin' GPS in it," Mickey replied.

"It can even just be a drug store GPS plugged into the car," Emri added. "The thing is I don't know anybody who can track a GPS in the south."

"Yeah well, only Ian had that many fuckin' contacts," Mickey mumbled exasperatedly, rubbing his forehead.

"We can go though his phone, try to find the number?" Mandy suggested.

"We don't even know the guy's name or who the hell the guy is either," Lip butted. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and tapped it nervously against his cheek. Suddenly he looked up, narrowing his eyes at Mandy. "Where's Maria?"

"I don't know, wasn't here when I got in," she shrugged. "The door was unlocked."

"Did we just..." Emri looked around, voice quieting. "Walk into a trap?"

The four stayed dead silent, all looking around shakily. After a minute, Mickey let out a long breath and shook his head. "No, we're not in a fucking trap."

"How do you know?"

"Nothing's happened, smart-ass."

"Let's just get out of here," Mandy quivered.

"We need a fucking plan or som-"

A loud rustle came from a room, echoing throughout the walls of the small house. All four froze again, listening quietly. They heard something that sounded like a window shutting. Absentmindedly, Mandy grabbed onto Lip, using him as a cover. Mickey grabbed Emri's arm, halting her behind him and covering her. He slowly took the gun out from his waistband and cocked it without making a sound, before starting to inch towards the door. Lip opened his mouth to say something, even moved forward to stop Mickey, but Emri grabbed his arm and shook her head. Mickey turned his head back to give a reassuring look to the three, before pushing open the door to his old bedroom. The three watched as he aimed the gun, moving it in all different directions before backing away. He shook his head. He moved towards the next door, pressing his ear against it. Mandy's leg began to shake nervously. Mickey gripped the handle, twisting it silently, before pushing the door open and aiming. The three watched as his facial expression turned from protective, to confusion, to relief, to happiness. A second later Jamie fell into Mickey's arms, hugging him tightly.

"Shit, Jamie!" Mandy screamed, running towards her brother, pulling him into a hug.

"Jesus Christ, guys," Jamie sighed, Mandy in his arms. "You have no idea what the fuck I've been through the last hour."

"Where's the rest of them?" Mickey asked.

"I'll take you to them, let me just-" Jamie caught sight of Emri and he smiled, moving forward to grab her into a hug. "Shit, you okay, A?"

"It's Emri, and yeah," Emri smiled. "I'm OK. What about you? Your... your eye?"

"It's healing," Jamie swallowed nervously and sighed, itching his head. "Okay guys, what the fuck is going on?"

"You tell us," Mickey said. "Terry kidnapped Ian and you show up without Colin or Iggy."

"I got out of there," explained Jamie. "Saw my chance and took it. They're down by the lake. They were at the hospital and used Colin and Iggy to check me out before I realized it was all a trick, and when I did it was too late. They had me in the car, with Iggy in the trunk, probably knocked out, and Colin right in the front seat with a gun to the back of his head. Right when the car stopped at the lake and they were pulling us out I got free and ran."

Mickey was starting to become nervous. A gun to the back of Colin's head? Terry wasn't going easy on them. By any chance Colin was probably already dead and dumped into the lake. Same goes for Iggy. And Ian? Jesus, if Colin's dead then Ian's already six feet under.

"Wait," Lip laughed tensely, standing up. "They just let you get away? Just like that? No way man, they wanted you to get away. Don't you see it? This is all planned. You were supposed to come here, they purposefully let you get away just so you could-"

"Lead them here," Emri finished for Lip, eyes wide as she looked at Jamie. "So... does that mean they're..."

Mickey walked towards the window and pulled the curtain without a second thought, showing that there was nobody there. He turned back to the group. "I don't think so. Maybe he wanted Jamie to take us straight there."

"Which do we do?" Mandy asked.

"You and Emri go to V's house," Mickey instructed. "I'll take care of this with Jamie and Lip."

"No, fuck no," Emri butted in. "I'm taking part in this shit."

"Me too," Mandy agreed.

Mickey snorted, "no you're not."

"Why? Because I'm a girl? I'm too young? You told me that you've gone through this shit all your life. That means when you were my age you were scared everyday because you feared this day. The day where you would have to fight back. I want to fight back. Believe it or not, Mickey, I care too. I want to be there in case something goes wrong. This means something to me too."

Everybody exchanged looks. A proud smile tugged at Jamie's lips as Mickey slumped his shoulders, sighing exaggeratedly. He pulled out a cigarette and lighter. "Well the fuck are we waiting for then, MLK? Let's go."

"Wait," said Lip, snapping his fingers suddenly. "I have a plan."

-

-

 

-

-

Mickey stared at the caution tape circled around the store, glass surrounding the floors, and the stains of blood around the visible counter. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw Linda talking on the phone inside the store near the back.

"You alright?" Jamie asked Mickey softy. Mickey cleared his throat and absentmindedly ghosted his hand over the scar on his abdomen.

"I'm fine. Let's just get this over with."

Lip was first to get Linda's attention. Linda's eyes were cold and she looked more stressed than ever from where she stood. A minute later she hung up on the phone, pulled her sweater tighter around her small body and walked towards the group, not even bothering to step around the glass. She stopped when the caution tape was between them. "What do you want?"

"We know who did this, Linda," Lip said calmly, trying to keep the situation tranquil. "We want to help you."

"You think I don't know who did this?" She laughed, eying them all angrily but Mickey especially. "That bastard Terry. It isn't easy filing a fucking lawsuit in the south side."

The boys mumbled agreements. "Terry's guys who did this will go to jail if you show us the camera tapes from the day of the shooting."

"You of all people should know what Terry is capable of," Linda replied to Mickey. "He'll kill me and my family."

"We will take care of Terry, we promise. We just need to get his bitches out of the way," Mickey said bitterly. He gave a pleading look to Linda. "Please. We just- we don't have a lot of time."

Linda furrowed her eyebrows, but she knew better than to ask questions. Instead she sighed and asked, "How's Ian?"

"Not good. Is it a yes or no?" Jamie hurried.

Linda exhaled.

-

-

 

-

-

Ian breathed in, not wanting to open his eyes as he struggled to keep his years in. He whimpered when he heard Iggy let out yet another toe-curling scream, followed by Colin's shouts of protests. Ian looked up at the ceiling of the dark shed and tugged at his restraints around his wrists and ankles, keeping him from moving. The bandana stuffed in his mouth was drenched in saliva and his previous tears. He finally broke down at another scream from Iggy and he began to sob with the side of his face pressed against the cold wooden floor.

"Please hurry, Mickey," he whispered, and though it sounded incomprehensible to him, he hoped somewhere that Mickey was close and on his way. "Please hurry." 

-

-

-

Mickey wiped at his forehead, feeling it pound painfully as he listened to the dial tone on the other end of the phone. His palm was starting to gather so much sweat that the card in his hand was beginning to drench itself.

"Hello?" Finally.

"Yo, Larkin," Mickey coughed awkwardly, crumpling the card in his hand. "It's Mickey. Uh, Milkovich. I need your help with something."

"With what? Does it have to do with the stabbing?"

"No. It has to do with the shooting that happened at Kash 'N Grab a few days ago."

There was a pause. "Listen, we're still looking for the suspects-"

"Yeah? Well, I found them. Plus I've got a kidnapping on the side, so are you gonna get your buddies and fucking help me or not?" 

 

"Well?" Lip asked when Mickey returned.

"They're on their way here," Mickey said. He glanced up and saw the looks everyone was giving him. "What? They don't trust me. They wanna see if this is legit or not."

"God, I hope this works," Jamie breathed nervously.

Mickey saw Ian's name scribbled onto the counter, something he must've been while he was bored at work. Mickey's bottom lip trembled as he smiled, running his hand over the name. "Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please kudos comment and share


	19. Help me, Mickey

"You're telling me that you can take us to exactly where all of these men are?"

Mickey sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day and nodded exasperatedly. "Yes, Larkin."

"And that these men and your father Terry Milkovich kidnapped his two sons Colin and Iggy Milkovich, and also Ian Gallagher?"

"Yeah."

"You do realize your father has custody over Colin and Iggy? Even though they're adults now, there were never any files or charges of withhold against Terry and his kids."

"Well, how about you look at all the other charges pressed against Terry and then tell me if he's a good fucking parent?" Jamie snapped.

Larkin exhaled and put his hands on his uniformed waist. "Sure, then we can look at the charges against your brothers."

"Okay, let's calm down," Lip butted in, gesturing to the security footage of Terry's men shooting down Kash 'N Grab. He paused the video and zoomed in to each of the men's faces. "I bet you can identify all these men where we're taking you today. Plus I guarantee you'll find my brother and the rest of the Milkovich's there as well. Without their consent."

Larkin gave one last look to the group before reaching to the microphone connected to his uniform. "Dispatch, this is Larkin. I've got a case of kidnapping. Gonna need backup at the Kash 'N Grab ASAP." 

Static. "Copy that."

Larkin looked over at Mickey who was sitting by the counter surrounded by shards of glass with a cigarette in his hand. He was in his own world, clearly, with his eyes casted downwards and mouth moving simultaneously as he seemingly spoke to himself. Larkin approached him carefully.

"You alright?" 

"You alright?"

Mickey looked up, snapped out of his daze and shrugged. "Whatever."

Larkin put his hands on his hips. "This uh, Ian kid. How's he related to your Terry problems?"

Mickey exhaled smoke through his nose as he furrowed his eyebrows. "Fuck's it matter?"

"This is a police case now, Mickey. I'm going to have to know the details." Larkin sighed when Mickey said nothing, only shrugged carelessly. "Listen, you can talk to me or talk to some douche-bag officer who won't give a fuck about you or this case."

Mickey looked up at Larkin and shook his head, the cigarette pressed between his lips. "He worked here," he said, smoke floating out of his mouth with each word. "He was here when the shooting went down. They probably took him when they found out he survived."

Larkin furrowed his eyebrows. "We didn't know about any people getting shot here. Linda said the store was closed."

Mickey shrugged and took a long drag from the cigarette. "We were. They got him in the thigh and the top of my ear came off, shit happens."

"This is all because of that bar fight, isn't it?"

"Listen man, think what you want. I'm tired, I'm just trying to get this shit over with alright?"

Larkin gave one last look to Mickey before the loud echo of sirens started to get louder as the cop cars seemed to get closer. Mickey stood up, flicked the cigarette to the ground and pushed past Larkin.

"You ready?" Jamie asked when Mickey approached him.

"Sure."

Jamie nodded, putting a hand on Mickey's shoulder for a second before turning away. Mickey side-eyed Larkin who was explaining everything to the other cops. Mickey felt a little tense, due to the numerous police officers around him, but he shook it off and decided to wait out by the car. He wasn't trusted by them, who gives a shit. This isn't about him. He only needs their help to save his brothers and Ian.

"-and what makes you trust this Milkovich kid?" Mickey heard a cop ask Larkin as he walked by them. "They've always been nothing but liars and cheap scum-bags."

"Just because they've got bad reps doesn't mean we stop helping them when they need us," Larkin bit back, making Mickey almost trip surprisedly. He was expecting a little shit-talk at least, definitely not defence. "It's our job. You forgotten' or something?"

Mickey heard a mumbled "no sir" before he felt Larkin push past him and go outside, the other cop following grudgingly behind him.

"Jamie's gonna lead the way," Larkin said as they all gathered outside. There were three cop cars, including Larkin, and five officers. With all of them totalled together, there was nine of them.

Lip jogged up to Mickey, just getting off the phone. "I called up Kev. He wants to help."

Mickey refrained from bursting out with anger, since he didn't want any more lives on his conscious than he already had. He sucked in a deep breath. "He wants in then he can go ahead. Something goes wrong don't put it on... anyone else."

Mickey meant to say "don't put it on me," but me might not survive this either.

Lip nodded and turned away. It was starting to get a little dark and chilly but the sun was still pressed against the back of their necks causing more stress than they already had. Fucking Chicago. With every moment, every second that passed, whenever Mickey thought of Ian or his brothers his heart sank guiltily. Ian never asked to be apart of this shit. Mickey dragged him right into it. None of the Gallagher family (and now Kev) deserved to be pulled into his shit, but now they are and there's nothing he can do about it but hate himself more than he already does.

"Let's go!" Larkin yelled.

Mickey looked up, snapped out of his trance yet again, and walked towards the car. He sat in the driver's seat, Jamie shoving in shotgun. Lip, Emri and Mandy were in the back. "Where the fuck is Kev gonna sit?"

As if on cue, Kev showed up to Mickey's side of the car, knocking on the window. Mickey rolled it down. "Where the fuck do I sit?"

Mickey pointed at Larkin's car. "With him."

Kev pulled back. "A cop?"

"Why not? He's a good guy. Unless you wanna squeeze in the trunk, which I think if you're lucky you might get one arm in, fucking Sasquatch."

Kev snorted, "Fuck off Mickey. You're just jealous of my guns, prick," but walked to Larkin's car, exchanged a few words before getting in the car slowly. Soon all the sirens went off, making the group groan at the piercing sound before they pulled off down the road, cops following close behind. Jamie gave directions along the way while he loaded guns and passed them around the car until everyone had one. The car was tense, everybody lost in their own thoughts. Mickey didn't blame them, this was a huge fucking deal whether they admit it or not. The lake wasn't very far, they reached the forest nearby the water in about ten minutes. That's where Mickey stopped and waved his hand out the window, signalling to the cops to turn the sirens off. He then turned to face everyone in the car. "You remember the plan?"

They all nodded silently. Mickey inhaled deeply and cocked his gun, placing it on the dashboard. "Anything goes wrong, take care of it quick and clean."

There was a nimble silence that followed those words. Mickey contemplated telling them to take those words however they wanted, but it seemed pretty obvious what he really meant. He stuck his hand out the window, signalling to the other cars that they were moving in. The gravel and other materials crunched under the wheels of the cars, and the sounds of birds chirping and wind whistling filled everyone's ears.

"It's just up there," Jamie mumbled. Mickey's heart raced so fast he thought he'd crash the car, even if he was only going 20 an hour.

Mickey must've been going a little too slow, since the cop cars behind him swerved forward to be ahead of him as they sped ahead. His heart rate picked up even more as he sped to catch up with them. The cops halted to a stop ahead of a large abandoned house just ahead of the lake. The screeching sound of their tires must've caught the attention of anyone inside, and that's if they haven't already realized there were cops in their front yard. The officers all got out of the cars, armed and aiming, while slowly approaching the house.

"This is it?" Mickey whispered to Jamie as they got out of the car, guns in their hands. "This is where they're at?"

"Yeah," Jamie breathed, just as scared as Mickey was. Emri and Mandy looked lost with guns in their hands, but they had their chins up and determination which is what mattered most.

The cops had entered the house. In the corner of his eye Mickey caught side of something small and closed off, which seemed too suspicious for him. He turned his head to see a small shed that was as beat down as the house, except there was a chain and lock on it, which the house didn't have. While Emri, Mandy and Jamie entered the house he walked towards the shed just near the back, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew how situations like these ended in movies, how the curiosity kills the cat and all that- but this wasn't a movie. This is real life. His anxiety was nothing to him right now. On repeat, in his mind there was one thing: Ian, Ian, Ian, Ian.

Mickey contemplated calling out, but decided not to. Instead, taking one hand off the gun, he shook the lock to check how secured it was. He pulled on it only to realize the padlock was huge and silver, just about the size of his palm. It isn't easy picking one of these. But shit, one of his brothers or Ian could be in there, and he'd pick at it all fucking eternity if it meant he had a chance to save them.

He thought about going to the house and calling for help, but his pride seemed to overtake him. Despite the situation he was in, the idea of saving someone by picking open a lock sparked something in his stomach. The thought of seeing Ian in there sparked something in his heart.

He put the gun between his legs and took his lock-pick out of his pocket, angling it underneath the padlock. He was about to start twisting until he heard something fall inside the shed, making his chest drop and knees quake. He pressed his ear against the shed door and breathed in, waiting.

Thump!

His eyes shot wide open. Somebody was in there! "I'll get you out," he mumbled, probably not loud enough for them to hear him, but loud enough to reassure himself. He began twisting and shoving the pick into the lock desperately.

Finally, the one-pound lock fell to the ground with a loud clang that got lost with the sounds of Mickey pulling the chain off the handle. He yanked the door open-

Nobody.

He stared at the empty dark shed with cobwebs and dust. His stomach dropped.

Thump!

Mickey's head shot up. Where the fuck was that sound coming from then? He picked up his gun and walked around the shed. He looked down and sighed. It was like a trapdoor, only much bigger and more noticeable than any regular one. It was painted silver with handles that were unsurprisingly also chained. Mickey went straight to work on this one too.

He pulled the handles, taking a deep breath. With his heart on the verge of an attack he decided fuck it and yanked the doors open, revealing a boy who cowered away from the sunlight and had a bandana stuffed in his mouth. The thumps must've come from the paint cans that were knocked over. His red hair glistened as he looked up at Mickey with tears and sweat on his face, his eyes pleading and loving. Mickey's world was frozen, lost in the pain Ian must have gone through and was probably still in. His mouth fell open as he struggled to say something, but his mouth nor body could move. He felt something cold press itself to the back of his head and he tensed, avoiding his teary red eyes from Ian and staring straight ahead when he heard the sound of a gun cocking.

"You done fucked up this time, Milkovich."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls kudos comment and share thx


	20. War

Mickey slowly raised his arms in surrender, dropping his gun to the floor. "Let's not get carried away here."

"Shut up," the man spat angrily. He grabbed Mickey from the back of his shirt and pulled him away from the trapdoor, throwing him to the floor. Dust spread in the air from under Mickey when he hit the ground, scratching up his hands. But he paid no attention to that, he only watched as the man reached into the trapdoor and pulled Ian out and onto the floor. He freed Ian's mouth from the bandana and aimed the gun to the back of his head while forcing the redhead down on his knees ahead of Mickey. "Last words, Red?"

Ian stared straight at Mickey with teary eyes and his eyebrows creased painfully. He turned his head to the darkening sky and sighed, shuddering as he sniffled. Mickey made to reach forward, tell him it's all going to be okay, but the man cocked his gun towards Mickey with a scowl. "Back up or I blow your brains out."

"Okay, okay," Mickey's words were jumbled as he held his arms up again, showing his surrender. He thought of a way out, looking around and wondering where the fuck the cops were. "Just- just calm down, alright? Fuck..."

The man had Ian by the back of his collar while the gun switched between the two of them. He cocked his head towards the house. "Whose in there?"

"My brother and sisters," Mickey replied quickly, not wanting to mention the cops. He swallowed, not knowing if he should or not because if the guy finds out he's lying he'll probably kill them both, but if he tells him the truth right now he'll still probably kill them both. "Where's Terry?"

"I ask the questions," the man growled. He shifted his eyes to the house and bit his lip, he was nervous. Mickey clenched his hands into fists. "Get up."

Mickey didn't move. The man pressed the gun harder into the back of Ian's head, probably bruising the area. Ian's cry emphasized that point. Mickey scrambled up at that, wanting nothing more than to take the gun and shoot the guy until there was nothing left of him. The man yanked Ian onto his feet, which didn't last since the bullet wound from before in Ian's leg must've gotten fucked up from all the pulling and pushing, and Ian fell back to the floor like a rag doll and cried exhaustedly. Mickey heart clenched as he gave pleading eyes to the man who was too busy staring at the blood starting to leak from Ian's wound. He looked up at Mickey. "Pick him up."

Mickey lunged forward and helped Ian to his feet, letting him lean his whole weight on Mickey. "Hey, hey. It's okay, Ian," he whispered in Ian's ear secretly, not letting the man see. "I'm here. I'm gonna get us out of this, okay?"

Ian nodded wryly, his arm curling around Mickey's waist. The man pressed the gun to Mickey's lower back. "Walk."

Mickey moved forward at a slow pace, Ian limping and whimpering next to him. He glanced at the house, swearing inwardly at his luck. How are none of them fucking looking for him? They can't all be caught. At least someone should be OK.

"Go down to the lake," the man instructed, nudging the gun towards where there was a dip in the hill leading down to the water. Mickey began walking towards the stream of water, shoulders tensing when the man stayed behind. If he goes around and sees the cop cars, Mickey will be done. Over. Dead.

There was a dock at the lake which Mickey assumed the guy wanted him to go on. But his mind was so shook that he couldn't help turning his head to see what the man was doing. Before he could even turn his head he felt something nudge into his hip, moving his attention down between him and Ian. He looked down to see Ian holding the gun Mickey had before. Mickey's breath caught in his throat as he met Ian's eyes. "You tryna get us fucking killed, Ian?"

Ian grunted and rolled his eyes. "Either way someone probably fucking dies, Mickey. I'd be happy to kill that son a bitch if you don't."

"Why the fuck did you stop?!" The man yelled, startling the two. Mickey whipped his head around, eyes wide as he mustered through words. The man was hurrying towards them with a deadly scowl on his face. Mickey's hand was pushing at Ian's, trying to get him to hide the gun back in his pants. "What the fuck is going on, huh?"

"He needed to take a fucking breather, alright?" Mickey snapped, which seemed to trigger the man who suddenly seemed angrier than before and pointed his gun up at Mickey.

"Watch your fucking mouth with me, faggot!" He yelled, yanking Ian by his arm causing him to stumble and fall. The gun dropped down between the three of them, all of them gawking at it. The man seethed, narrowing his eyes at Mickey and raising his gun. "You fucking-"

Three gunshots rang through the air, all milliseconds apart before the man fell to the ground with two bullets to his chest and one to his head. Mickey's mouth fell open at the amount of blood but he took the chance to quickly grab Ian back onto his feet before he looked up to see Larkin aiming right at where the man was. Larkin glanced at Mickey and Ian. "You boys alright?"

"Took you long enough," Mickey said while Ian mumbled a 'thank god' under his breath. He guided Ian towards Larkin. "The fuck were you? And all the others?"

"We found Colin Milkovich in the basement half - unconscious with a bullet wound in his arm," Larkin informed. "He's loosing a lot of blood."

Mickey began walking to the house. He yelled over his shoulder, "So in other words, you assholes forgot about me?"

Larkin shrugged, "Yeah."

Mickey disappeared into the house. Larkin turned to Ian with his hands on his hips. "Ian Gallagher?" Ian nodded, hand clutching his leg. "I'm Officer Larkin. You alright?"

"I think my stitches reopened," Ian groaned.

Larkin glanced down at Ian's thigh. "Let's fix that up, then."

-

-

-

-

"So, anything you can tell me about where Terry and the others are?" Larkin asked while taking his first aid kit out of his police car. Ian was on the hood of the car with his jeans at his knees, clutching the bullet wound from the other day that was starting to reopen and bleed intensely.

"All I know is that they locked me up in that fucking shed and tortured Iggy in front of Colin. God, I hope Iggy's OK."

Larkin nodded and bent down to inspect the wound. "Shit, the bullet went right through your fucking leg."

Ian sighed and looked up at the sky, awaiting the pain. "If I had a dollar for everytime someone said that."

Larkin pulled the string from the first aid kit, a needle and scissors. "This wi-"

"Hurt, I know." Ian squeezed his eyes shut.

Larkin slid the needle into Ian's skin and pulled it, making him hiss. "So," Larkin decided to make conversation to take Ian's mind off the pain. "You and Mickey, huh?"

Ian grunted, "He doesn't want to talk about it."

"Do you?" Larkin asked quickly, finishing one stitch.

Ian peeked one eye open to glance at Larkin interestedly. "I don't know. What's there to talk about?"

Larkin shrugged, closing another stitch. "I don't know, maybe that your boyfriend is homophobic."

Ian didn't say anything. Larkin peered up at the red haired boy. "He is your boyfriend, right?"

Ian shrugged. "Who cares? Doesn't matter anyway. I don't think he really likes me, you know? I feel like he's just confused and thinks he does."

Larkin snorted. "Kid, are you kidding me? I've never seen someone so worried about another person in my life, and I'm a cop. I've seen my fair share down here. I think he likes you, maybe too much for his own good."

Ian's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really." Larkin pulled the last stitch before cutting it. "You're all done."

"Wait," Ian said before Larkin could walk off. He pulled his pants back up and closed the belt. "I heard Mickey talking to his brothers yesterday. Is it true that you know who stabbed Mickey?"

"We need Mickey's help to identify the person and allow us to reopen the case, without that we can't do anything even if we have a lead."

"I can identify him."

"It would be best if Mickey came. The stabbing was related to him after all."

"Yeah, but I know pretty much all the people that Mickey knows."

Larkin sighed and put his hand on Ian's shoulder, looking into his eyes. "I think there's a lot you don't know about Mickey Milkovich. There's just somethings he has kept to himself."

Ian watched as Larkin walked off into the house. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked to side, before pushing off the car and limping inside the house.

When he got to the basement he saw Mickey smoking a cigarette while looking down at Colin who was being questioned by the cops with Mandy rubbing his shoulder soothingly. Ian stood beside Mickey, keeping a little bit of space and once again putting his hands nervously in his pockets. "What's up?"

"Currently, a whole fucking lot," Mickey replied sassily, just like himself. It made Ian smile a little. Mickey side eyed Ian and sighed, moving closer until their elbows were pressed together. It made Ian smile bigger. Mickey played it off by handing the cigarette to Ian. "Colin's traumatized, which nobody fucking expected, and he's trying to remember where Terry might've taken Iggy."

Ian nodded and exhaled the smoke from his mouth. He handed the cigarette back to Mickey and gave him a soft smile. "Let's go upstairs. You know, while Colin thinks."

Mickey laughed nervously, "C'mon man, maybe another day alright? When I'm not looking for my psychotic father-"

"I don't mean to fuck, Mickey," Ian rolled his eyes. "To get your mind off things for a while." Ian looked down at his wounded thigh and shrugged. "Plus, I don't think I could fuck anyway. Would probably hurt too much."

Mickey looked at Ian's leg and frowned. "That sucks for me."

"That reminds me, blow jobs," Ian pointed out as they started walking upstairs. Mickey laughed and punched Ian's shoulder, letting his hand rest there. "There's gonna be a lot of sucking on your part."

"Fuck off," Mickey chuckled. "What about riding?"

"Oh my god, your ass will be right on my stitches the whole time, no thanks," Ian snorted.

"So what, its not worth it?"

Ian turned his head and smiled at Mickey fondly. "We'll just have to find out."

Mickey raised his eyebrows in that cute curious way that made Ian want to stare at him forever. He walked towards a window and stared out at the cars, pulling another cigarette out and lighting it. Ian joined him, leaning against the windowsill. "You alright, Mickey?"

Mickey shrugged. "Whate-"

"No, Mickey. I mean it, you can tell me," Ian smiled reassuringly. 

"I don't know, let me fucking think about it Gallagher, oh yeah, my brother's with my crazy dad who kidnapped him who also shot my other brother and stabbed my other brother and shot you and is hunting me down so you know, I don't think I'm alright," Mickey sneered sarcastically. 

Ian just watched Mickey with his head leaned against the window and fond oozing out of him. "Kept thinking about you, you know, when I was locked in there."

Mickey glanced up at Ian and looked away quickly, taking a long drag of the cigarette. Ian moved closer, putting one of his hands on Mickey's left hip. "I knew you would come save me. I didn't doubt it for a second. Each minute I knew I was closer to seeing you again."

Mickey said nothing. Ian was so close now that his breath was hitting Mickey's cheek. He took the cigarette out of Mickey's hand and stubbed it on the windowsill. He rubbed his hand down Mickey's back, making the elder lean into the touch. He pressed a soft kiss to Mickey's cheek. "You're a hero, Mickey Milkovich. My hero. Thank you."

Mickey's hand trailed to the one Ian had on his waist and he gripped the red haired boy's hand. "For what?"

Ian nosed Mickey's cheek and breathed in his wonderful scent. "Saving me."

"I'm not fucking Hercules, man," Mickey gave a small smile, closing his eyes.

"I missed you, Mickey."

Mickey glanced up at Ian, their damn height difference, with eyes so sincere it made Ian's heart clench. He placed both his hands on Ian's cheeks and leaned forward, leaving the softest kiss neither boy had ever received or given in their lives. When they moved away their breaths still hit each other's mouths, and for some reason Ian found himself more aroused than ever. He pressed Mickey against the window and kissed him hard, with tongue and defiance. Their bodies pressed together as they gripped at each other. Ian's hand came up to Mickey's face and clutched the beard the boy was currently sporting.

"Fuck, this beard, Mickey," Ian breathed, leaving kisses down Mickey's neck. Mickey whimpered, grabbing at Ian's shirt. "So hot."

"Thought we weren't gonna fuck," Mickey replied just as breathlessly, Ian sucking a hickey into his neck. Ian's long fingers wrapped around Mickey's wrists and pulled them off his waist slowly, his teeth biting Mickey's bottom lip.

"We aren't," he smiled at Mickey and moved away, grazing his hand against his crotch as he did.

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Fucking cockblock. The fuck was that about anyway?"

Ian shrugged and took his place back against the window. "I like your beard." He chuckled when Mickey looked at him with an annoyed expression and arms crossed. "Jeez, you get so cranky when you're horny."

Mickey rubbed his eyes and looked out of the window. His eyes just caught site of a figure dashing through the trees and he tensed. "Fuck was that?"

"Did you see someone?" Ian asked. Mickey nodded.

"We gotta check the forest," he looked up at Ian with wide eyes. "Get everyone together. I'll find Larkin."

Ian nodded and rushed downstairs while Mickey went upstairs where he knew Larkin was. He found him talking on the phone.

"Send in an ambulance. One man was shot down so far- yes, so far. We haven't found Iggy Milkovich but we might get a lead from the brother or Gallagher. Oh and inform the Gallagher family of their brother, tell them he's alright."

Larkin hung up and turned around, furrowing his eyebrows at Mickey. "I just called in an ambulance and more backup. Something wrong?"

Mickey's head was starting to pound painfully again. It seemed whenever Ian wasn't there a mountain of stress dropped itself on Mickey's shoulders. He rubbed his eyes again.

"I saw someone in the forest

 

"I saw someone in the forest. We should check it," he replied to Larkin, who nodded.

"Alright, gather everyone. I don't want this search ending until we find Iggy and have Terry in handcuffs."

"I'm going to kill him."

Larkin froze, stopping at the door of the room he was about to leave. He turned to look at Mickey as if he was crazy. "No. We're going to do this the right way."

"The right way is he dies," Mickey bit out, eyes hard and unforgiving. "I'm not talking about it. It's the only option."

Before Larkin could say anything Mickey was already heading downstairs. Larkin glanced up at the ceiling and said a prayer before following behind.

-

-

-  
-  
-

-

"You hear or see anything, give a call on your phone or verbally," Larkin instructed to the group of cops, Gallagher's and Milkovich's. He looked at Ian. "Son, I think you should head home to your family."

"No," Ian said in a tone that was inarguable. "My family is here too."

Mickey had to hide his smile in his shirt as he looked down at his feet.

Larkin sighed but nodded then he headed into the forest. "Be safe, everybody."

Ian, Mickey, Lip, Colin, Jamie and Larkin were set into a group. All the groups had one cop in them at least. Emri and Mandy were in another group. They all had guns in their hands, despite the looks from the cops, they had bigger matters on their hands.

"You don't remember anything?" Mickey asked Colin for the third time as they searched.

"I don't remember anything that could help us find out where that son a bitch took Iggy," Colin replied for the third time.

"Who the fuck is that?" Lip shouted in a whisper, clutching his gun. They all peered down toward where the teen was aiming and gawked at a man who was rushing towards the outer end of the forest where the lake was. They all followed closely, being careful not to crunch any sticks or leaves underneath them as they walked.

Finally they stepped out of the forest and onto a sandy area ahead of the lake where there was another dock similar to the one back at the house. But the most important part was the men all littered around with guns in their hands and in the middle of them all, with a huge shit-eating grin was the one and only Terry Milkovich. Mickey felt himself rage inside at the look on that bastard's face as he started up at the group. "About fucking time."

Colin's hand was twitching around the gun he held. Jamie was subconsciously touching the bandage of his eyepatch. Ian hand lingered over his upper thigh where the bullet was. Mickey grazed his abdomen, right over the scar. Terry chuckled. "Looks like I've just about fucked over almost all of ya. Expect the pig and the older Gallagher kid. But there's a time for everything."

Colin raised his gun and pointed it at Terry, causing all the men around Terry to point at him. Terry didn't move an inch, but he also had a pistol in his hand that he didn't seem to need the use of. He walked to a car and pulled the trunk open, yanking Iggy out of there and throwing him to the sandy ground. Mickey felt like throwing up at the condition his brother was in, basically beat to a pulp but there seemed to be no signs of bullet wounds or anything too severe. "You want your brother over here? Come get him."

Mickey swallowed his pride and stepped forward. "This is between you and me, Terry. Why the fuck you bringing everyone else into this?"

Terry's eyes hardened. "I'm showing you how your faggot ass affects everyone around you. You embarrassed me, you sack of shit. Everything I ever fuckin' taught you was a waste!"

"Taught me? Hold up, you taught me? Are you out of your mind?" Mickey laughed unbelievably. "You never did anything for me, you piece of old shit! Colin taught me, Jamie taught me, hell even Maria gave more of a shit about me than you ever did!"

Terry scoffed, obviously loosing his guard. Mickey began walking forward, his face hard and cold. "Don't put your shit on us, Terry. You know you're the shittiest fucking father anyone could ever have and it's hitting you now. Not because I'm a fag, or because I learned nothing, but because you are starting to realize that you were the worst fucking person in the world all your life and this is the way your psychotic ass tries to change that. You want to get rid of us so you don't have to live with that guilt of seeing our faces everyday and knowing that it's your fault we're like this.

"But we are not you, Terry. We aren't fucking crazy and psychotic enough to ruin someone's life as bad as you did. This is my family. Yeah, it's a little broken and rusty, but we can change that. You, you will never be apart of us. You never have. There isn't a day that has passed since I was fucking born that I didn't hate you. I know you think you did so fucking well raising us as shitty Southside robbers and murderers but that is not who we are. We are more than that. Just because we start here doesn't mean we end up here." Mickey pressed his gun against Terry's forehead, watching the man's slack jawed stare. All the guns from the other men were pointed at Mickey now, but none of them shot. "Now look me in the fucking eye and tell me how much of a piece of shit you are before I blow your fucking brains all over the water, you cocksucking cunt son of a bitch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls kudos comment and share thx


	21. ...Now what?

Terry's response was a slack-jawed, wide eyed stare for a moment before he laughed, turning his head towards the men around him. "You believe this? Fucking joke."

The men said nothing. Terry looked back at Mickey with stone cold eyes and pushed the gun away. "You think you got everything figured out, huh? You don't know a thing about me. You don't know how the fuck it feels because I raised you and look how you turned out. I did everything for you. You were my favourite, Mickey since I thought I saw something in you-"

"Don't give him that shit," Colin barked, interrupting Terry. He marched forward, face red with anger. He stood next to Mickey, chest out and chin up powerfully, despite his broken arm. "You weren't there. You never were. I was there and Jamie and Iggy were there. Jamie was the one who raised Mandy, Iggy and Mickey while I rotted in jail because of something you pulled me into."

Terry didn't reply. It was obvious that he was starting to loose his act of power and fearlessness. He couldn't even meet Colin nor Mickey's eyes. For a second there, Mickey almost felt a little bad for him. He looked so pathetic right there with his two sons ahead of him, telling him what he needed to hear years ago.

"You know what they always said, Terry?" Mickey asked, crossing his arms as he dropped the gun to the floor. "They always told me that those who shouted and acted tough and fearless were the biggest cowards of them all. And they were 100 fucking percent right. I didn't see it then, but I see it now. You're afraid, you're weak, and you're pathetic. You're just blinded by your ignorance and half-assed attempts to make your own kids think they're worthless. You make me sick to my stomach."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Terry said calmly, finally meeting Mickey's eyes. "But right now, whose the coward, huh? You, you fucker."

Two men came up behind Colin and Mickey and forced them on their knees, holding guns behind their heads. Larkin, Jamie, Lip and Ian were also being forced down in front of Terry after being dragged there by other men. Their guns fell to the floor as did their knees. Terry's eyes lingered on Ian. "Fucking hell, this kid just won't give up, will he?"

"Touch him, and I swear to god I'll fucking kill you," Mickey spat, eyes cold and hard on Terry. Ian closed his eyes as Terry began walking towards him with a cocky grin on his face.

"Mickey's little bitch boy, huh?" Ian sucked in a deep breath, feeling Terry's presence near him. He felt a hand on the top of his head, curling into his hair. "Fucking fag-"

Ian cried out when Terry punched the side of his face, but it was only a millisecond before the hand disappeared and there was a loud shout. He opened his eyes to see Mickey tackling Terry to the ground, other men coming around to pick Mickey off of him. But Mickey had a gun to Terry's temple as he dragged him up to his feet, his other arm choking Terry as he backed away slowly. "Come near me and I'll fucking kill him."

Larkin and Jamie took the chance of no men around them to pick up their own guns and aim. Lip and Ian followed with shaky hands. Suddenly the cops along with Emri and Mandy appeared, gawking at the scene. They outnumbered Terry's men. Mickey's heart sped. 

"Mickey?!" Terry yelled out through his state, staring at Emri who was watching them nervously. Mickey's arm pressed down harder on his trachea, not letting any words pass. Emri was staring at Mickey and Terry with her mouth slightly open in surprise and a pistol in her hand. The cops were all currently arresting the other men or taking them down in a fight, which was now starting a lot of commotion around them. Terry still stared at Emri.

Emri walked towards them. "My name is Emri," she said, tears filling her eyes. "It's Emri, you bastard."

As her hand came up to shoot Terry, Jamie pulled her back, the bullet flying elsewhere. "What are you doing, Emri?" Jamie yelled.

"Look at what you've done to her!" Terry yelled, trying to wriggle out of Mickey's hold. "You turned her into a murderer!"

Jamie's head whipped up as he glared at Terry with his one eye. He grabbed Terry by the hair and pounded punch after punch, focusing on his right eye. By the time he was done Mickey let Terry fall to the floor, blood pouring out of his nose and probably his eye as well. Jamie sucked in a deep breath and walked off, taking Emri with him.   
Mickey cocked the gun and pointed it at Terry, his arm shaking nervously. Colin's words echoed into his head. You're not a killer, Mickey, you're not a killer.

His eyes caught site of Colin with his peripheral vision. Colin was watching him. Terry was still in pain on the floor. Colin walled towards him and held his hand out, the hand of the arm that wasn't wounded. "Mickey, it's okay. It's okay if you can't because I don't want you to have this burden on your shoulders forever. Let me do it."

Mickey's bottom lip quivered. He knew Colin was right. It was just the way Mickey was. He wouldn't be able to live with knowing that he killed Terry, because it would do something to him. Change him. He will never be able to explain how or why, but he just knows that it will. He tipped the gun into Terry's hand. Then, over the loud shouts and and chaos around them, a loud gunshot erupted. Some of them stopped, turned their heads and stared as Terry's body fell lifeless onto his front. Some people saw it coming. Mickey had tears falling down his face. His eyes were red by the overwhelming state he was in, surrounded by his family while his father lay dead on the ground in front of him. It was in this moment that Mickey wished he hadn't been born. That he didn't have to suffer through pain like this. Sure, he wanted Terry dead since the day he could walk but when it actually happens and you witness it, it doesn't make anything one bit better. If anything Mickey felt more destroyed than before. He hated that his brother had to kill their father. He hated it. He hated everything. Including himself.

He will always blame himself no matter what. It's hard not to. Whatever he's going through, this depression or whatever he's suffered through without help his entire life, it doesn't make him strong. He suffered. He prayed to whomever for help, and he never got it. So he realized he had to live with it forever. Don't look at him and think he's tough because he beats people up, or because he has fucking knuckle tattoos and a bad rep. He's broken. Destroyed. He wants help, needs it. But he never got it and look at the situation he's in now.

"Mickey," Colin said softly, putting the same hand on his brother's shoulder. "Mickey, let's go. It's okay."

Mickey was still crying. He couldn't even stop while Colin seemed to not be affected at all. But that's something the Milkovich family is talented at. Hiding their feelings, keeping straight faces. You'd think they could see right through each other. Mickey looked up at Colin while they walked, and everything seemed to be in slow motion. Colin had an arm around Mickey's shoulders, the other wounded one resting on his chest as the two walked through all the gaping people back into the forest. His face said nothing, but from the angle Mickey was in he could see the pain and the regret in his brother's blue eyes. "It's okay," Colin was saying as they approached the house. "It's gonna be okay, Mickey."

Mickey was leaning against his car with Colin, both sharing a cigarette. Soon the officers poured in with Terry's guys who had handcuffs and scowls on their faces. They sent nasty looks to Colin as the were shoved into cars. One man was especially rough as he struggled to get to Colin but the cops held him back.

"Fucker! You fucking killed him! Your own dad!" The man was shouting, but the cops had him shoved in a car before he could say anything more.

"You know him?" Mickey asked, puffing on the cigarette.

"He's our uncle," Colin replied lowly. Mickey's eyes widened as he looked at Colin. "Fucking hypocrite."

"Jesus," Mickey mumbled, looking back at the car the man was in. "How many brothers did Terry have?"

Colin shrugged, cigarette between his lips. Soon the rest of the Gallagher's and Milkovich's approached Mickey and Colin silently. They were all a little dazed and very exhausted. Larkin was the last to exit the forest and he walked straight to the group by car. Mickey sighed, knowing he must be angry about Terry's death.

Mickey held a hand up. "Look man-"

"No, I'm not mad Mickey," Larkin interrupted with a serious face. He looked at Colin. "You did what you had to do. What was right for your family. I respect that."

There was silence for a minute before Colin spoke. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Larkin replied. He nodded to the group before turning around and heading to his car. Mickey let out a long breath and closed his eyes, letting his head hang back while small droplets of rain started to patter.

"Now what?" Lip asked after a comfortable silence. Mickey flicked his cigarette to the ground and opened his eyes as he crushed it with his boot. He caught site of Ian against the hood of the car smoking a cigarette with Mandy.

"Shit," Jamie suddenly exclaimed, springing forward. They all turned their heads just in time to see Jamie make a beeline for Iggy who just exited the ambulance and hugged him tight. The group all followed.

"Hey Iggy," Mickey breathed, pulling his brother into a hug after Jamie finished. "You alright?"

"Way fucking opposite, but I'll get there," Iggy responded with a husky voice. It made Mickey's heart clench, the position his brother was in. But now he was safe, and that mattered. Colin pulled Iggy into a hug that must've been too tight. "Jesus, Colin, I'm all broken bones here. Ease up, man."

Colin laughed and pulled away, tears in his eyes. "Just happy to see you're OK man."

"We all are," Mandy smiled as she lightly hugged Iggy. "Oh and this is Emri. Your new sister."

"Oh great, another one," Iggy snorted sarcastically, smiling at Emri. He held a fist out. "Sup?"

Emri grinned and knocked their fists together. "Just another Monday."

They all chuckled, happy it was finally over.

But then again, as Mickey thought of his stabbing and Maria, he remembered that nothing is ever really over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls kudos, share and comment


	22. You And Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the moment youve all been waiting for

When Mickey had stumbled back into the Gallagher house along with the others, he charged straight upstairs and into the single bedroom without the bunk beds, falling facedown on the bed. He could hear footsteps enter the room but he couldn't find the energy to move his head.

"You alright?" He heard Fiona's soft voice. He grumbled in response. Fiona sighed and continued speaking. "We just got back from V's. It's good to see everyone alright. Well, physically anyway." Another pause. "Colin, Iggy, Jamie and Mandy are in the basement."

"Okay," he replied into the mattress. He really wanted her to leave. You wouldn't believe how sleep deprived he was.

"Okay," she repeated quietly. She was quiet, but Mickey could still feel a presence in the room. He kept tense for a few seconds before sighing and looking up, expecting to see Fiona but instead came face with Ian's back as he closed the door quietly. Before he could say a word, Ian turned and raised his arms, pulling his shirt off from the back of his neck. Mickey watched, amazed and on his forearms with his chest against the covers and a slack jawed stare. Ian sunk forward on the bed and flipped Mickey over slowly, never breaking eye contact. Ian pressed a hand into the side of Mickey's face, his other hand resting on his waist. Their noses grazed together, hot breaths hitting one another's mouth. Mickey's hands slid over Ian's strong arms, feeling the muscles twitch underneath his fingertips. His skin was hot, almost burning. Ian loomed over the older boy, not being able to take his eyes away from Mickey. He was beautiful. The way his big blue eyes stared up at Ian with so much trust and compassion that he'd never speak of out loud, the way his body reacted so easily to Ian's touch, it made Ian feel more aroused than ever.

"Ian," Mickey whimpered when Ian wouldn't press their lips together, he only kept pulling back so their lips grazed. Ian shushed him by lightly pushing his face to the side, revealing his pale neck waiting to be ambushed by the redhead. Ian leaned down, his hands on either side of Mickey's face as he peppered soft, sweet kisses down his neck and around his collar bones. Mickey's hands were desperately grabbing at Ian's jeans, his fingers slipping into the belt loops and pulling him forward until their crotches grazed together before Ian would teasingly pull his hips back.

"Ian," Mickey hissed out into the dark room, apart from the moonlight shining from the window. He felt a hum just under his ear, which he guessed was Ian's response. "Stop being a fucking tease."

Ian suddenly sucked hard onto one of Mickey's sensitive areas, causing a loud groan and his back arched beautifully from the black haired boy. Ian nosed his way back up to Mickey's lips, pressing their noses together. "Good things come to those who wait, Mick."

Ian silenced whatever snark response Mickey would've said with a hard kiss, his tongue slipping inside Mickey's mouth. His body was completely pressed against Mickey's now, his hands gripping Mickey's hair tightly. Mickey's nails dug into Ian's shoulders, clearly trying to get the upper hand, and Ian was having none of it. With one last kiss Ian sat up, his rear pressed straight against Mickey's groin. He pulled Mickey up with him, pulling the boy's shirt off. In the new position the moonlight bounced mesmerizingly off Mickey's face, showcasing those crystal eyes filled with arousal and lust, and the cuts and bruises on his cheekbones and nose. Mickey leaned forward, almost completely in Ian's lap. One of Ian's hands were on Mickey's bare waist while the other balanced him with a tight grip in his hair.

The kissed like it was the last thing they'd ever do. This was by far the most intimate thing either boy had ever done. Ian pulled back and slowly laid Mickey back down, kissing down his chest. He glanced up at Mickey who was breathing deeply, his hands reaching for Ian's hair. Ian grabbed his wrists, pushing them back against the comforter. "Keep them there for me."

Mickey nodded. It wasn't a choice, it was an order. His stomach churned in a wonderful way, feeling like a washing machine when he felt Ian's hands start to unbutton his jeans. His hips thrust up on instinct, making Ian chuckle. He pushed Mickey's hips back down as he slid the jeans off, leaving Mickey in only his black boxers. Ian, on the other hand, still had his jeans on which frustrated Mickey to another point that he couldn't get out of his mouth since Ian was mouthing at him through his boxers.

He moaned and his hips pushed upwards, eyes squeezed shut at the feeling. He could also feel Ian smile against his dick, which okay, should not feel as good as it did but hell, it felt amazing. Ian looked up at him, biting his inner thigh to get Mickey's attention. "Do you like that?"

Mickey whined, desperate for any source of touch. "Ian..."

"Well?" Ian asked teasingly, pulling away all touch to the writhing boy. Ian's deep, gravelly sex voice sent a shiver down Mickey's spine as he panted, staring into Ian's green eyes. He felt hands dig into his thighs. "Answer me."

"Yeah," Mickey replied heavily, possessed by his arousal. He could feel his erection getting harder with every breath. "Yeah, yes, yes... please, I like it Ian, I like it..."

Ian hummed, pulling Mickey's boxers down. He swallowed his length down in one go, causing a cry to leave Mickey's mouth. Ian pulled away to say, "Be quiet or I'll stop, and leave you right here," before going back. Mickey bit down on his lip to keep his noises in desperately, because fuck, the last thing he wanted right now was Ian to just keep him here, desperate and sweaty against the sheets and make him hold his orgasm all night-

His gasp echoed through the room when Ian licked at the tip. Ian, once again, pulled away and leaned up, pressing their lips together, letting Mickey taste himself. "Mickey, you gotta be quiet. Or else everyone downstairs will hear you. Do you want them to see you, Mick? All desperate, panting, horny as fuck? God, Mickey, you're beautiful."

Mickey tossed his head to the side and whined, eyes squeezed shut. Ian's words did something else to him. He heard a bottle cap open before feeling what could only be Ian's long finger sliding into him slowly. Mickey shuddered, a small gasp leaving his mouth. "Ian, please, please-"

"Please what, Mickey?" Ian asked in that calm, collected voice that made Mickey squirm. "Tell me what you need."

"You," Mickey breathed, feeling two more fingers enter him. He arched his hips. "I-I need you."

"You have me," Ian growled, leaning forward so he could speak right next to Mickey's ear. "Tell me. Exactly. What. You need."

"Your... your..." Mickey was at a loss for words. Ian's voice, his fingers, it all did so much to him. "I want you inside me."

"Was that so hard to do, baby?" Ian cooed, pulling his fingers out. Mickey glanced through his heavy lids to see Ian rolling a condom on his erection, which stood proud and red with anger. He groaned and rolled his head back, feeling Ian push into him. His hips rocked down, wanting Ian to be rough. But Ian was going slow, as if not wanting to hurt him. Mickey growled, his nails biting into Ian's back causing Ian to hiss in pain.

"Give it to me hard, Ian," Mickey spat out with hard eyes. "I ain't no bitch."

Ian's eyes flashed with possessiveness as he gripped Mickey's thighs, wrapping them around his waist. The chain necklace Ian wore grazed against Mickey's nipple coldly as he pulled out, giving Mickey one last look. "You asked for it, baby."

Mickey's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when Ian pushed back into him with one rough thrust, his full length (while was incredibly hung, might Mickey add) seemed to tear Mickey apart. Ian showed no mercy, pounding relentlessly into the boy beneath him. Mickey was sure he wouldn't walk for a week. The only sounds in the room was Ian's focused grunts and Mickey high whines and moans, with the occasional cuss word from either boy. "I-Ian!" Mickey shouted when he felt his release creep up on him, his stomach filling with that feeling again. Ian closed a hand over Mickey's mouth as he thrust once, twice more before both boys came, Mickey untouched. Thank god for Ian's hand, because if it wasn't there the whole city would be on board with what was going on in that room. Ian gave one last sloppy thrust making Mickey whimper before he pulled out, gave one last kiss to Mickey, and rolled over beside him.

Ian tossed the condom in the trash and plucked a kleenex off the nightstand, cleaning Mickey up. He threw that in the trash as well, before pulling Mickey towards him, spooning him. Their legs tangled simultan-eously as Ian's fingers grazed softly over Mickey's scar on his abdomen. They basked in each other's breathing and the soothing quietness of the room. Mickey contemplated lighting a cigarette, but he was way too tired to get up and retrieve his cigarettes from his jeans. Instead, he took Ian's hand that was on his waist and kissed it, interlacing their fingers. It was just as addicting.

-

-

-

-  
-

-

The next morning, Mickey woke with his face pressed into Ian's arm and the feeling of hot breath on the back of his neck. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the sunlight pouring through the open curtains. Turning his head to glance at Ian who was sleeping soundly, he then lightly pushed Ian's arm away and pulled boxers and a shirt on. The first step he took tore a painful sensation through his rear and up his spine, causing him to flush. Ian had literally ruined him last night.

He limped his way to the bathroom and took a piss and washed his face. He settled for the mouthwash which seemed to have been in the bathroom forever. Afterwards he went back to the room to check once more on Ian who was still sleeping soundly.

"You alright?"

Mickey turned his head and looked down at Debbie, the redhead girl version of Ian. He arched an eyebrow. "Why does everyone keep fuckin' asking me that?"

Debbie glanced down at the way Mickey leant against the wall as if he couldn't stand. Mickey sucked in a deep breath and noticed how Debbie's room was right next to theirs. He bit the inside of his cheek and silently cursed Ian. Debbie smiled and shrugged. "Your secret's safe with me, Mickey. If it even is a secret anymore."

She giddly skipped down the stairs while Mickey glared at her back.

"You gonna stand there all day?"

Mickey turned his head to see Ian sitting up in bed, rubbing a fist over on eye. His shirtless torso was the second best thing to his bed hair. Mickey grunted. "Can barely walk anyway."

Ian laughed, still a little dazed from sleepiness as he dropped back down. Mickey took the chance to limp over and sit next to him on the bed. "Pass me my boxers?" Ian asked.

Mickey leant down and picked them up, throwing them at him. Ian slipped them on, and that's when Mickey noticed the scar on his thigh. He ran his hand over it as Ian laid back down, closing his eyes. "Does it hurt?"

"Did last night," Ian mumbled, pressing the side of his face into his pillow. Mickey gulped guiltily. Without even opening his eyes, Ian added, "Still best night of my life though."

Mickey wasn't listening. He was still a little overwhelmed by the fact that Terry really was finally dead. He was now absentmindedly running his hand over Ian's thigh, not really listening to whatever else Ian was saying. His eyes bore into the mattress, flashbacks of Terry's body falling to the floor lifelessly and the ice in Colin's eyes as it happened.

"Mick?" Ian called out, disturbing Mickey's thoughts. Mickey blinked, looking up at Ian. He sputtered, confused as to what just happened. Did he just zone out? Completely? He felt like he got zapped back in time. Ian looked concerned, sitting up on his elbows as he furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, whatever man. I'm cool," Mickey reassured him. He sighed when Ian didn't look one bit convinced. "Ian. I'm fine."

"OK, " Ian replied slowly. He sunk back down tentatively, eyes still on Mickey.

Mickey rubbed his face tiredly. "Fuck, I need a drink."

Ian snorted. "It's eleven in the morning."

Mickey shrugged and stood up, slipping Ian's sweatpants on and running a hand through his hair, trying to tame it a little. Ian watched him, arms bent behind his head with his body on full display. Mickey gave him one last look. "You just gonna sleep all day, then?"

"We should go on a date," Ian announced loudly, startling Mickey a little. Mickey stared at him for a little, waiting for more but instead he got nothing except for a big grin.

"Alright Reese Witherspoon, any ideas?"

"You plan it."

"I'm a little busy, Ian."

"Okay, I'll plan it," Ian sat up and reached for a pair of track pants in the drawer next to him. "But you have to promise you won't blow it off."

"Why would I?" Mickey grinned mischievously before leaving the room. He went downstairs, trying to play his limp off as best as possible. He saw Carl with Liam at the table while Lip flipped pancakes on the stove. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

Carl shrugged carelessly as he fed Liam. "It's the last day."

Mickey poured himself coffee. "So?"

"So who the fuck goes to school on the last day?"

"I would," Lip replied. Carl rolled his eyes and stood up, taking Liam with him. "Where you going?"

"Park," Carl smiled evilly, which said something completely different from his words. Mickey snorted as he sat at the table, taking a plate of pancakes and syrup with him.

"So," Lip said conversationally, starting a new batch of pancakes. "You gonna take care of the Maria business?"

"Jesus, don't I get a fuckin" day off?"

"Just saying, if I were you I'd get it over with as soon as possible."

Mickey shoveled pancakes in his mouth. "I'll take care of it."

"Don't worry," Colin interrupted as he entered the kitchen, throwing his jacket on. He picked a pancake up with his hand and shoved it in his mouth. Mickey and Lip both gawked at him. "What?"

"Fucking manners?" Mickey asked.

Colin rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said with a mouthful. "Like I was saying, don't worry. I'll take care of Maria. You get the stabbing shit over with."

"Wait," Mickey stood up, blocking the backdoor before Colin could leave. "What exactly do you mean when you say 'take care of it'?"

"Don't be a nance, Mick," Colin scoffed. He stared at Mickey a second then turned to Lip, lost faces on both of them. He sighed and turned back to Mickey. "Kill her."

"And you're okay with that?" Mickey asked disbelievingly. "First Terry now Maria too? Everybody has a limit, Colin."

"I don't, not with those assholes," Colin replied stubbornly.

"You're lucky you even got off the hook with killing Terry," Mickey said matter of factly. Colin laughed and held his head back. "I'm not fucking around."

"Yeah? Me neither," Colin's face turned sour. "Anybody threatens my siblings, my family, they go down. I don't care who it is."

Mickey stared at him. "You still think Maria's the one who stabbed me?"

"I do," Colin replied instantly. His jaw was locked tightly with anger. "Don't stand here and defend her, alright? Not after what she's done."

"Colin," Mickey rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache rise. He needed a drink. "I know you hate hearing this, but you're wrong. She didn't do it."

"You don't know that," Colin snapped. "She's a threat, Mickey. A red flag."

"I don't want you to go to jail again," Mickey almost shouted. His anger was rising. "We'll figure out another way."

"Don't worry about me."

With that, Colin pushed past Mickey and went out the door, slamming it behind him. Lip looked at Mickey concerned, but went back to flipping. Mickey look down at his food, but his appetite was gone.

-

-  
-  
-

\--

-  
-

"How you feeling, Mickey?"

Mickey glanced up at Kev with a death stare. He leaned forward on the bar. "Give me scotch and four shots."

Kev glanced at the others at the bar but did as Mickey asked. Mickey sat in The Alibi, he went straight after Colin left, awaiting the news of Maria's death and Colin's prison sentence that was bound to happen. The drinks were set in front of him. He downed the shots quickly, the scotch following. "Give me a beer."

Kev placed it down in front of Mickey. Before Mickey could pick it up it was already gone. He looked up at Jamie who stood beside him. Kev put down another one for Mickey who looked insulted by Jamie's move. The stool beside Mickey was soon filled in by the one eyed boy. "Hey, Mick."

"What do you want?" Mickey asked with no real heat, just curiosity. Jamie never really liked coming to The Alibi. He always said it was cheap and smelt like old men couch farts. 

"Just wanted a fuckin' beer, that alright?" Jamie replied starkly. He took a swig before placing the bottle down. "Colin gone?"

Mickey pressed the bottle to his lips and raised his eyebrows as if to say 'what the fuck do you think'. Jamie sighed and shook his head. "Fuck."

"Yeah, look at you mommy's bitch," Mickey laughed, the alcohol starting to run through him. "You'll miss her."

"Fuck you," Jamie scowled. "Speak for yourself. Who runs to her when they're in trouble, huh?"

"You."

"No, you, you asshole."

Mickey sighed, defeated.

"Look," Jamie exhaled, calming himself

 

"Look," Jamie exhaled, calming himself. "If you get that stabbing shit over with and prove it wasn't Maria, he won't kill her and he won't go to prison."

"Who says he hasn't ripped her head off already?" Mickey brought the bottle back to his lips exhaustedly.

"You know Colin," Jamie leaned forward, closer to Mickey. His arm was outstretched across the bar as he turned himself completely to Mickey. "He plans his shit out. Takes a few days."

"That's when he's trying to be clean," Mickey replied. "He doesn't care about jail with Maria. He'll do it dirty to get it over with as quick as he can."

Jamie laughed. "Damn, you really forgot what Colin's like."

"How's the eye, Jamie?" One of the men on the stool next to Jamie asked

 

"How's the eye, Jamie?" One of the men on the stool next to Jamie asked. Jamie's smile wiped off his face and he turned to look at the man venomously.

"It's none of your fucking business, that's how it is," he replied calmly, but with a lot of evident danger in his voice. The man sputtered, turning around quickly. Jamie turned back and tapped his hand against the counter, taking another swig. "Anyway, all I'm saying is that if you get your business over with, you'll save Colin's life."

"What if-" Mickey sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose stressfully. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "What if it was Maria?"

Jamie stayed silent for a minute as he, assumingly, thought. "Then she'll get what she deserves."

He got up and left. Mickey watched him leave, letting out a long breath once he was out the door. Kev also let out a whoosh of air as he leant forward. "He scares me, that kid. A lot of anger in him."

The man Jamie had scolded agreed along with everyone else at the bar. Mickey snorted. The man turned to Mickey and shrugged. "You don't scare me that much."

Mickey raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, Jamie's a lot more intimidating."

Mickey shook his head, no energy for a fight inside him. "Jesus Christ."

His phone rang and he looked down to see Larkin's name flash across the screen. His stomach sank, deciding to finally get this all over with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls kudos, share comment


	23. Kash n Dash

Ian was aimlessly wandering the bleachers of the baseball field later that morning, trying to ease the pain of his wound on his thigh. The sunlight was burning down on the back of his neck as he pulled at his shirt, trying to create some air on his heated chest. He noticed a familiar figure at the top of the bleachers, his head back as he chugged cans of most probably very cheap beer. Ian stood at the bottom of the bleachers, looking up at him and squinting in the sunlight.

"Very productive day," Ian yelled loud enough so Mickey could hear him, referring to earlier that morning when Mickey had told him that he needed to take care of 'important business'.

Mickey's voice wavered back, "Fuck off."

Ian snorted and started up the bleachers, taking his time as he tried not putting too much pressure on his leg. He eventually got to Mickey who had several crushed beer cans next to him along with stubbed cigarettes. "Jesus, Mick."

Mickey said nothing, just smoked away on what seemed like his eighth cigarette. Ian took a seat next to him, the crushed beer cans separating them. "You need something?" Mickey grumbled.

"No," Ian replied. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Do you?"

Mickey raised his eyebrows and turned his head slightly to give Ian an unimpressed look. Ian raised his eyebrows back suggestively. With a scoff Mickey looked back out at the field. "Supposed to go to the station to find out who stabbed me."

A beat of silence. "Why aren't you?"

"I don't know," Mickey pouted his bottom lip out, stubbing the cigarette.

"C'mon Mick, you can tell me."

"Guess I just don't want to find out that Maria did it, whatever."

Ian roamed his eyes over Mickey's reddened face that was starting to get layered with sweat. His eyes were becoming bloodshot, his right leg was jumpy as if he was nervous or anxious, and his eyes shifted around more than usual. "Do you think she did it?"

"I don't know."

"So you have a feeling it could be her. Mickey, you could go get all of this figured out right now. Just go to the station and get it over with."

Mickey's phone began to ring. It was in between the two boys next to the cluster of beer cans and cigarette stubs. Ian glanced down at the caller ID. "Larkin."

Mickey groaned, rubbing his eyebrow as he downed the rest of the can. He stood up, snatching his phone and the rest of the cans as he walked down the bleachers. Ian stood up, squinting in the sunlight again. "Where are you going?!"

"Somewhere else!" Mickey shouted, his voice cracking. He turned to look at Ian with eyes redder than ever and irritation littered across his face. "Somewhere fucking far away from here!"

"Mickey," it was easy for Ian to catch up to Mickey, since both boys had a limp that barely let them hurry. "Mickey, I know this bothers you but c'mon man, I'll go with you if you want-"

"I don't need you! I'm not some fucking bitch who needs his babysitter following him around everywhere!" Ian realized that by now it was the alcohol talking. Mickey was definitely drunk off his mind. And it was only almost one in the afternoon.

"Okay," Ian said softly. Mickey's phone started to ring again, vibrating in Mickey's hand. They both ignored it. Mickey began to limp away again, this time more slowly with his shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

"Just leave me alone."

Ian's heart clenched at the smallness and sadness in Mickey's voice. He looked so vulnerable as he walked away, trying to hide his limp. He took his phone out and dialled Larkin's number.

"Larkin." He answered on the third ring.

"Larkin, it's me, Ian Gallagher. Listen, Mickey's not gonna come to the station. Your next best chance of finding this guy is to let me come identify him if I can. Please."

There was silence on the other end. Ian could faintly hear the sound of a telephone ringing in the back and voices speaking. Larkin must be at the station now. "Fine," Larkin finally replied, Ian closing his eyes in relief. "Be at the station in ten minutes."

\---

Mickey threw rocks at the wall in front of him, aiming for the beer cans but his uncoordinated vision was causing him to hit anything but the cans. He was sitting under the L, all his beer finished. He felt hazy, stressed, and very irritated at the outcome of his drinking. He was aiming for a stress relief but all he got was more weight on his shoulders. Still, he couldn't help wanting more of it. It seemed nowadays the only thing that kept him in line was alcohol.

Ian's words were on a loop in his head. He knew the redhead was right, everything would be easier if he just got it over with. Mickey didn't know what was taking him so long. Fighting almost everything inside him, he dialled Larkin's number and sighed, stressfully pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Larkin."

"I'm- I want to identify the asshole."

There was a minute of silence. Mickey chewed on his lip, waiting. Larkin coughed and asked awkwardly, "Uh... have you not seen Ian?"

"Yeah, like, an hour ago? Why the fuck does he matter?"

\---

Mickey charged into the Gallagher house, a bottle of scotch in his left hand as he thundered up the stairs. He could hear the shower running, and since he guessed there was nobody else in the house it must've been Ian. He threw the door open, ignoring Ian's yell and threw the shower curtain open. Ian stared at him with big eyes, covering his dick.

"You fuckin' went to the station?" Mickey spat out, fingers tightening around the bottle. Ian glanced down at the alcohol and sighed, looking a little guilty. He didn't meet Mickey's eyes.

He sputtered, searching for a reasonable answer

 

He sputtered, searching for a reasonable answer. "You wouldn't go, so I just wanted-"

"No, don't turn this about me," Mickey hissed, his anger reaching a boiling point. "You know what, lately you've been shoving your fucking nose up in everyone else's business."

Ian's nostrils flared. "Well, sorry I keep getting fucking dragged into it."

"Nobody dragged you into this shit, this was my business," Mickey groaned, his head starting to pound again. Ian turned the shower head off as Mickey took another drink. "Well. Who the fuck was it?" Ian looked down at the tub floor. Mickey followed the motion, raising his eyebrows. "What the fuck is it? Why you hesitating?"

Ian sighed and gave an unimpressed look to Mickey. "Should I really tell you right now?"

"Why, because you're naked? I've seen it already, so just fucking spit it out-"

"You're piss drunk and angry," Ian informed him. He reached around Mickey for a towel and wrapped it around his waist. "I don't want you doing something you'll regret."

"Oh, you mean like kill the son of a bitch who tried killing me? 'Cuz that would be fucking insane," Mickey scoffed as he followed Ian out of the bathroom and into his room. Ian rolled his eyes and turned around, facing Mickey.

"Do you want to go to jail?" He asked. Mickey scoffed, turning his head to the side. "No, Mickey I'm serious. Do you?"

"The fuck do you think? Obviously not."

"Then I say we give it a day until you're sober and not crazy so we can go kill the son of a bitch."

"Was it Maria?"

Ian's eyes widened a little. Mickey held a stern stare, sucking in his bottom lip as he waited for an answer. Ian finally shook his head. "No, no. It wasn't her."

Mickey's shuddered with something that couldn't be recognized as relief or fear. Now that Maria was off the list, he was sure it must've been some jack ass he fucked around with in the past who was back for revenge. "Then who the fuck was it?"

"Mickey," Ian pulled a pair of boxers and jeans on, then turned to rummage through his drawers for a clean shirt. "I'm not trying to purposely hold it off from you but-"

Mickey had had enough. He pushed Ian up against the bunk bed with his nails digging painfully into Ian's bare shoulders. Ian hissed out, his hands coming up to wrap around Mickey's wrists and try pulling him off. "I swear to god Gallagher, you better tell me what the fuck I want to know before I drive your head straight into the wall."

Ian's eyes widened but he quickly tried hiding his surprise with a face full of pride. He stared back at Mickey and stuck his chin up. "Fine you wanna fucking know? I'll tell you."

Mickey pressed him harder into the wood of the bunk bed, causing it to dig into Ian's lower back. He tried holding off his cry and dug his nails into Mickey's wrist. "But when you get into shit, don't come to me."

"Don't even worry about it," Mickey spat.

Ian's jaw clenched. "Kash. Kash did it."

Mickey's mouth dried. Out of all people, he wasn't expecting fucking Kash 'N Grab. "What the fuck?"

In his state of confusion, Ian managed to push Mickey away. Mickey let himself stumble back, hands gripping the nightstand behind him. Ian pulled a shirt off the ground and slipped it on. "I don't know what you did to him, but he's the one who stabbed you," Ian said as he watched Mickey take it in. "At least that's what the security cameras showed."

Mickey gripped his forehead as it began pounding again. He sat down on the small bed, elbows on his knees as he squeezed his eyes shut, remembering that one time with Kash where he intimated him.

When he leaned down to take a bottle he choked, almost shitting himself when he saw two guys fucking. He gasped and smirked, closing the door quietly and sneaking to the larger freezer door. He looked through the window to see Kash taking it up the ass from some dude.

"Hello," he said conversationally, a cocky smirk on his face as he leaned against the door. The man fucking Kash looked up surprisedly and pulled out, quickly pulling his pants up as he pushed past Mickey and out the door. Mickey was still staring with a smirk at Kash when the door jingled shut. Kash had his pants back up and the most worried look on his face. "Ple-"

"Save it, brown ass," Mickey snorted. "Always knew you were a fag."

Kash's mouth opened and shut like a fish. "Linda doesn't-"

"I realized."

"I didn't know you were-"

"No shit."

Suddenly the door opened again and Mickey bent his neck to see Ian entering whilst shuffling his jacket off his shoulders. He grinned when he saw Mickey, but it wiped away when he got closer and just saw Kash standing there looking like he was shitting his pants. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Kash said quickly.

Mickey raised his eyebrows amusedly but played along anyway. "Yeah, nothing. Was just telling Kash 'N Grab here to start helping out around the place, ain't that right?"

"That's right," Kash replied hesitantly. He wiped his hands on his jean clad thighs and took one last look at Mickey before leaving the freezer. Ian raised his eyebrows amusedly at Mickey once Kash was out of sight and laughed.

Mickey cursed himself and his cockiness. Still, the fact that Kash had stabbed him over that seemed a little too over for him. Especially since Mickey didn't even tell anyone that Kash was gay, not even Ian knows.

"So, what happened?" Ian asked. Mickey looked up at him and sighed, explaining everything.

\---

"Colin!"

Colin turned his head to see his younger brother, Jamie, running towards him. He rolled his shoulders and turned back around, not stopping for Jamie. Jamie caught up with him though. "What the fuck Colin?"

Colin lit a cigarette and held it between his lips. "What I do now?"

"It wasn't Maria," Jamie walked backwards ahead of Colin, a hand up as he tried stopping Colin. Colin kept walking forward, looking straight ahead as if Jamie wasn't there. "Hey, I ran into that red head Gallagher. He went to the station and saw the cameras. It wasn't Maria."

Colin exhaled the smoke as he spoke. "Then who was it?"

Jamie's shoulders slumped at the uninterested tone of Colin's voice. He stopped walking, causing Colin to stop as well before he bumped into him. "You don't care, man. You just want a reason to kill Maria."

Colin looked down at Jamie with emotionless eyes. "I know what I'm doing, James."

"Nah, you don't. You're gonna kill her because you got problems with her and that's gonna be on Mickey's shoulders for the rest of his life."

With the cigarette between his lips, Colin looked at Jamie with an expression Jamie couldn't decipher.

"You think I would let Mickey suffer like that? My own brother?" He asked

 

"You think I would let Mickey suffer like that? My own brother?" He asked. Jamie shrugged.

"He thinks you're killing Maria because of him. The stabbing shit."

"Well, by now he should know that Maria didn't stab him, so I'm killing her anyway."

Jamie stopped Colin before he could start walking again. "Colin you gotta-"

"I get it Jamie, I do," Colin said in his soft voice, a small smile at his lips. "You love Maria. She never did nothing bad to you. But she did to me, and she will to you. She's poison, Jamie. She's going to fuck us all up like Terry did."

"You don't know that," Jamie called out painfully as Colin walked away, hands shoved in his pockets.

"I know better than anyone," Colin replied over his shoulder, not even having to raise his voice for Jamie to hear him. With one last look Colin continued walking, leaving a broken up Jamie on the sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls kudos share and comment thanks


	24. Please, don't do this...

"Kash is gay? Gay?"

Mickey rolled his eyes as he took another drink. "No, he's gay."

Ian didn't pay any attention to Mickey's sass. Instead, he sat down on the bed next to him and gawked. "He's got a family and everything- you know what, now that I think about it, it makes a lot of sense."

Mickey snorted, "How?"

Ian shrugged. "Picked up a few pointers here and there but I guess I never really thought about it. He's always stared at guys, flirts with me, hates his wife, never spoke once to or about his kids."

"What a prick," Mickey spat. It still hadn't exactly hit him that Kash tried to kill him. There was something off about this. And the only way to find out what that is, is to beat it out of Kash. Mickey stood up and shook himself off, feeling a little uneasy from the amount of alcohol he consumed today but he ignored it, instead he stumbled his way downstairs with Ian hot on his tail.

"Mickey look at you, your drunk off your wits man," Ian was saying, but Mickey didn't listen. "Mickey please, don't do this. At least, not alone."

"My business."

"You're gonna do something that's gonna fuck you up and you know it. So just listen, alright? For once."

Mickey sucked in his bottom lip and gave Ian an impatient look. "So what you want me to do then? Sit on my ass? Let that prick get away? Call one of my brothers to handle another fucking one of my problems? Is that what you want? Cuz that's probably exactly what you would do, right? Let Kev take care of it, or Lip. Or even me, maybe?"

Ian gave Mickey a broken hearted look that went against everything Mickey was saying. His puppy dog eyes almost brought Mickey to tears but Mickey had had enough. He was over it. He didn't let Ian stop him as he continued speaking. "Guess what, Gallagher. You ain't me and I sure as hell ain't you. So next time you want to make a decision for me forget about it, cuz I got a fucking brain of my own and I can use it."

With that, Mickey took one last look at Ian and left the house, hating himself even more than he already did.

Mickey didn't know where he was going. Hell, even if he did know where Kash lived he was almost 100% sure he wouldn't go just because of the guilt it would cause him. Sometimes, when he fights with Ian, he can't control it. Words just come right out of his mouth. He forgets who he's arguing with and he just says some shit off the top of his head that was completely directed for somebody else but it's too late, the damage is done. By then he just ends up hating himself and his big mouth.

He found himself at the Kash 'N Grab, that was currently being rebuilt by the looks of it. There were machines everywhere and debris piled up but nobody was currently at work. Mickey stepped around it and went inside the damaged store. He walked to the counter that had been dragged off to the side of the store. For the most part the counter was a mess, but his eye could only catch Ian's name carved into the side of it. He felt something push against his foot as he walked towards it, and he looked down to see a Snickers bar on the ground, dust covering it. He bent down and picked it up, dusting the dirt off of it.

"Shit, you been through hell and back," he mumbled to himself, unwrapping the candy. He took a bite out of it just as the sound of a gun cocking echoed through the room. He quickly shot up and spun around, eyes widening. Jamie let out a relieved breath and un-cocked the gun, shoving it into his waistband.

"You scared the shit out of me," Jamie snickered as he walked through the destroyed store. Mickey spat the candy out of his mouth and walked towards his brother.

"What the fuck you walking around with a gun for?" He asked Jamie who was looking through a GUNS & AMMO magazine he found on the floor.

"You seen where we live?"

Mickey took that as a reasonable answer. He leaned back against the counter. "Why you here?"

"Was looking for the brown asshole," Jamie replied. "That redhead of yours was right you know, telling the cops he didn't know the guy. Otherwise the cops would be looking for Kash right now and we wouldn't get our way with him."

"I say let the guy rot in jail," Mickey shrugged. Jamie snorted and raised an eyebrow at his younger brother.

"You know Colin wouldn't let that happen."

Mickey fought the urge to roll his eyes. "When did you become Colin's bitch, huh?"

"Fuck off. By the way, we don't have a lot of time before Colin kills Maria, if you want to stop it."

Mickey turned his back to Jamie and took another bite out of the candy. "Eh, whatever. He decided he wants to go back to jail then who the fuck am I to stop him?"

Jamie furrowed his eyebrows and dropped the magazine, walking towards Mickey. He leaned his back against the counter, Mickey watching him from the corner of his eye. "Maybe I'm the only reasonable son of a bitch in this family, but I don't want Colin going to jail. And from what I remember about you, you were just as fucking upset about him killing Maria too."

"Does he know Kash stabbed me?"

"I told him. He doesn't care."

Mickey looked at Jamie for a second before sighing and rubbing his forehead. "Where is he now?"

"My guess is Sebastian's house loading up on guns and ammo."

"Alright we'll fucking talk to him then." Mickey's head was starting to pound again. He needed a fucking drink.

"You alright, man? You look like shit," Jamie put a hand on Mickey's shoulder. Mickey dug his head in his hands, feeling that hole of emptiness in his stomach widen even more.

"Whatever, I'm fine," he coughed to hide the weakness in his voice. Jamie watched him with a concerned look.

"So how's Red?"

Mickey glanced up at his brother with an empty expression and shrugged loosely, eyes darting to the floor. "Fine, good, whatever."

"His leg?"

"Healing."

Jamie waited a second before asking the next question. "How come he went to the station?"

"Beats me," Mickey lied through his teeth, crossing his arms. "He's got a problem where he can't mind his own business."

"You got to be careful with... relationships like yours," Jamie said. Mickey looked at him with raised eyebrows. "You guys clearly fight all the time. You don't give him attention, you better believe he'll find someone else who will."

Mickey scoffed disbelievingly as Jamie walked out of the store. "The fuck do you know about relationships," he mumbled while following his brother outside.

\---

"Hey Ian," Fiona greeted as she entered the house with bags of groceries. She set them down on the counter. Ian sat at the table, flipping through job listings in the newspaper. "Whatcha doing?"

"Well, since Mickey and his brothers are about to land themselves back in jail I realized that I might as well start making my own cash instead of sitting on my ass all the time," Ian replied smartly with a sour grin. Fiona raised her eyebrows amusedly while putting groceries away.

"What are they up to now?"

"Kash stabbed Mickey, ya-da-ya-da he's wants revenge blah blah, Mickey won't accept his feelings and his brothers want to help him," Ian went back to circling jobs before speaking again. "Oh, and Mickey hates me. Again."

"Okay, I have seen my fair share of fights living around here but you two are too much," Fiona snorted. "You guys need to just chill out and enjoy each others company for a second."

"Mickey constantly changes his mind, he doesn't know what he wants," Ian muttered, slowly getting more and more hurt the more he thought of Mickey. Fiona sat next to him at the table and smiled sympathetically. She put a hand on top of Ian's.

"Ian, I want you to know that when you get in a fight with someone, especially someone like Mickey, you are going to immediately think he hates you, because of the kind of person he is. But he doesn't and deep inside you know it. Until you know what's going on in Mickey's head right now and how he feels, this can't be blamed on him again and again." Ian knew his sister was right. She always was. Ian nodded and looked back down at the paper.

"I'd talk to him about it, but he's too fucking stubborn."

"So that means you got to wait on him. He'll come around eventually."  
Fiona looked down at the newspaper. "Anyway, any jobs open?"

"Few shitty ones here and there," Ian replied. "How's the wedding planner job going?"

"So far so good. My boss is an asshole sometimes but it's nothing I can't handle. I could maybe get you a job in there, if you wanted."

"Thanks, Fi but I'm a shitty planner and you know it."

"Not true. You plan birthday parties like you were born to do it."

"Compare birthday parties and weddings. Plus, I've got my eye on something but I don't really know if it's good for me."

Fiona gave her a brother a warm smile. "What is it? You can tell me, Ian."

Ian put his finger on the ROTC advertisement on the page. Fiona's smile fainted away as she looked at it. "I want to be in the military, Fiona."

"Jesus, Ian," she mumbled. "A-are you sure? You know it isn't easy getting in there."

"I want to try," Ian pushed. "I think I can do it. I want to be an officer, Fiona."

Fiona looked at Ian seriously. "If you do sign up for this, you'll be away from home a lot. For training and if you get enlisted."

Ian nodded. "I know."

"Do you think Mickey would be OK with that?"

Ian bit his lip and nervously looked back at the newspaper. "Well I mean," he sputtered. "He can't hold me back from my ambitions and what I want."

"You're right, he can't."

"But then again I also don't want to-" Ian stopped himself and sighed. "You know what, for now I'll think about it. I'll talk to him."

"Good idea." Fiona stood up and went back to putting the groceries away and starting dinner. Ian took his phone out and dialled Mickey while walking outside.

\---

Mickey's phone started to ring just as they pulled into Sebastian's street. He glanced down at Ian's name and looked over at Jamie who was busy driving and munching on his burger. He answered the call. "Yeah?"

"Hey, Mick." Ian sounded nervous and soft. It made Mickey nervous too.

"What's up? Something wrong?" Mickey couldn't help asking, his voice sounding a little urgent. He heard Ian take in a deep breath on the other end.

"Nothing Mick, it's just... look, if I had something that meant a lot to me that I wanted to pursue, you would support me right?"

Mickey snickered a little. "Depends. If you decided you wanted to fucking eat people I wouldn't support you. What you on about anyway?"

"No, no nothing like that," Ian laughed softly. "It's like, should we talk about it when you get home?"

Mickey looked at Jamie who had already pulled into Seb's house and was waiting for Mickey outside the door, looking impatient. Mickey took the chance of being alone in the car to say what he wanted to Ian. "Yeah, we'll sort it out when I get back. I gotta go now, Ian."

"Okay, Mickey," Ian replied, as quiet as a whisper.

Mickey squeezed his eyes shut. "I lo- uh, bye Ian."

Mickey quickly hung up and refrained from shooting himself in the head. Did he almost just fucking tell Ian he loved him? He doesn't even know what love is! He looked up when Jamie started knocking on his window, an annoyed look on his face. Mickey got out of the car. "Fuck was that?" Jamie asked.

"Ian," Mickey replied. He didn't see the point of lying. Jamie didn't seem to give a shit anyway, he just walked to Sebastian's door and pushed it open, not bothering to knock.

"Woah, woah!" Sebastian yelled when the two walked into the basement. Seb was with Colin looking through guns, just like Jamie predicted. He calmed when he noticed it was just two more Milkovich's. "Jesus, warn a guy will ya? I thought you were cops."

"Serves you for not locking your fucking door," Jamie chuckled while fist bumping Sebastian, Mickey doing the same.

"What's up James, Mick?" Seb asked, sitting back down. Colin barely acknowledged his brothers in the room. He was busy cleaning a damn AK47.

"Just another day," Mickey replied, eying Colin. Colin looked up at him with a cigarette between his teeth.

"Light it," he mumbled through it, hands too dirty to do it himself. Mickey refrained from rolling his eyes and took his lighter out, putting the fire to the cigarette. Colin mumbled a thanks and went back to cleaning.

Sebastian stood up. "I'll leave you guys to it. Give me a yell when you pick a gun."

"Thanks Seb," Jamie pat Sebastian's back as he left the room, leaving the three brothers downstairs.

"Iggy's gonna be here soon, he's helping me take the bitch down," Colin informed, still not making eye contact with anyone.

"Makes sense. Since he's the only one who hates Maria as much as you do," Jamie replied.

"And why is that, James?" Colin asked, looking up at Jamie with cold eyes. "She treated all of us like shit but only me and Iggy are smart enough to do something about it."

"Colin," Mickey sighed, sitting on a block of wood and pulling it next to Colin. "I know you think that since you killed Terry you gotta kill Maria too but she hasn't done shit yet. She hasn't said a word or hurt anybody."

Colin looked at Mickey. "She hurt you."

"Nah, she didn't. That was fuckin' Kash 'N Grab."

Colin laughed unbelievably and put the gun down, looking at Mickey as if he was the dumbest person in the world. "Why the fuck would he do that to you?"

Mickey hesitated for a second before remembering that that son of a bitch stabbed him, so why should he keep the secret of his? "I caught him cheating on his wife once. With a dude."

Colin snorted and rolled his eyes. "Does Kash fucking look like he has the balls to come up with the idea of stabbing you?"

"Honestly, no."

"You're right, because it wasn't him. Maria fucking hired him to do it, you idiot."

"God, Colin," Jamie sighed dramatically, rolling his head back. "You're such a fucking nance. Why are you so paranoid? I mean look at you and your goddamn theories."

"It isn't a theory," Colin snapped. "It's a fact."

"Alright, where's your proof?" Mickey asked. He spotted a beer on the table and picked it up, downing it. Colin watched him.

"You want proof? Go fucking ask her yourself."

"Why don't we just go ask Kash?" Jamie suggested. "Probably easier to find than Maria."

"Ask whoever the fuck your heart desires, I know what I know." Colin loaded the gun and cocked it, aiming at the wall ahead of him. "And what I know is right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, share and comment please!


	25. ROTC, you can fuck off.

"So when exactly are you planning to do it?"

Colin looked up at Iggy who had just entered the room. Jamie and Mickey also glanced at him. Colin put the gun he was holding down on the table ahead of him. "Later today. She in town?"

"No," Iggy replied, sounding cold. He glared at Jamie and Mickey as he walked towards the table of guns. "To me it looks like someone warned her and she left town."

"And the fuck do you think? I did it?" Mickey snorted. "So what, she's my best friend now? I'm gonna go around like her personal bitch and name everyone who wants to kill her? Trust me, the list would never end."

Iggy scowled and looked at Jamie. With a scoff Jamie turned his head to the side and shook it. "I didn't tell her shit. Haven't even seen her since Terry got me."

"She fled town then she can't be far, by now she'll probably be trying to find a way cheap back to Canada," Colin said as he stood up. He picked up the pistol he had his eye on and called Sebastian's name.

"Is there any way to change your fuckin' mind?" Mickey asked Colin before he could leave.

Colin thought for a second. "Can you change the past?"

Mickey sighed and looked down at his feet, shaking his head disapprovingly. He felt Colin push past him and go upstairs.

\---

"Fuck, I hate my siblings," Mickey announced as he walked into the Gallagher house, shrugging his sweater off. He reached in the fridge and pulled out a beer. "They're either going through my shit or bitching."

"Agreed," Lip replied nonchalantly from the living room. Mickey walked over and sunk down next to him on the couch, leaving a space between the two. "My siblings are always going through my stuff. I got personal shit that they shouldn't see but they do anyway. Fuck them."

Mickey downed half the bottle. "It's weird when one of them finds out your biggest secrets or goes through your personal stuff, they'll see stuff they didn't want to."

"I know. It's like they want to be scarred for life."

"Fuck siblings," Mickey sighed. "I wish I was an only child. Or that I had one sibling."

"Same," Lip flicked through channels on the TV. "Same."

They sat in silence a while longer. The sound of Tom and Jerry's shenanigans filled the now quiet room. It reminded Mickey of the time he woke up in the hospital after the stabbing incident with the same show playing on the box TV. Maria brought Mickey there. And now Colin's going to go kill her. By now, Mickey really wasn't sure how he felt about Maria. It was all too confusing to put together. His thoughts were all over the place.

Lip cleared his throat. "So, Ian tell you about his ROTC thing?"

ROTC? The fuck is that? "ROTC?"

"Yeah you know, like the army and stuff."

Mickey's face must've been filled with confusion since Lip started to realize he must've made a mistake telling Mickey. Quickly, Mickey covered it up easily. "Yeah, yeah he did," he lied, wanting to know more. "So what exactly is the ROTC thing? He didn't tell me a lot yet."

"Well," Lip sighed. "It's like a training program. Takes a few months in some place far from here. I don't know why he'd want to be in the army but whatever, if that's what he wants."

"A few months?" Mickey squeaked, mentally beating the shit out of himself. He finished the beer and coughed, lowering his voice.

"Yeah, then the army will have him gone for sure at least a year or two to do a tour in Afghanistan or something. It's a tough job, the military."

Mickey gaped at Lip while he spoke. Fuck, was Ian trying to get away from him? What kind of person who wants to pursue a fucking relationship just leaves before they can properly start one? Mickey was baffled. He couldn't help but scoff disbelievingly and shake his head at Ian's inconsideration. "Well shit."

"I know right?" Lip said through a mouthful of chips. Where the fuck did he get those? "You alright with him going?"

Mickey sighed when he remembered the call from Ian back at Sebastian's house. So that's what he was talking about. He wants to pursue a job as a soldier. "Anyway you think I can change his hard ass mind?"

"He seemed persistent," Lip shrugged. "I guess you should talk to him about it more."

"Where is he?"

"Last I saw him he went somewhere with Fiona."

When Mickey sucked in a deep breath he caught a whiff of Mandy's perfume. He looked around, wondering if Mandy was in the house somewhere. He side eyed Lip as the math hit him and he gasped, moving away. "Dude, are you boning my fucking sister?"

Lip froze, eyes wide. "What? Uh, no..."

"Holy shit that's disgusting," Mickey gagged, getting up from the couch and stumbling to the kitchen.

"So what? You're boning my brother."

Mickey grabbed a bottle of some cheap grub alcohol from the cabinet. "I can't even- I don't even have words."

Mickey dashed upstairs before Lip could say anything else. When he found himself in Ian's room, he felt the bug of lurking creep up on him. It was starting to get dark out, and the glare of sunset bouncing off Ian's bed was too inviting for Mickey to ignore. Drinking some of the alcohol he stopped by Ian's nightstand, opening the drawers boredly. He might as well look through his shit in his free time.

There wasn't anything interesting in the drawers but when Mickey went far enough as to check under the bed he found some dude porno magazines, making him snort loudly into the empty room. He flipped through them uninterestedly, the material way too prude for him. He slid them back under the bed and stuck his arm further under, patting around for something interesting. He pulled out a box and grinned, unlatching the small hooks. He sat on the ground and leaned his back against the bed, stretching his legs out and tucking his bottle between his thighs.

He took drinks as he went through the contents of the box. There were pictures of tiny Ian and his family, small merchandises like rare coins and pieces of cloth. One very interesting thing was a photo of Mickey, that he'd never noticed Ian take. In the photo Mickey's eyes were casted down while he fumbled with taking his jacket off. From the background Mickey recognized the place as the Gallagher kitchen. In all honesty, Mickey looked a little angry in the photo, his face sour in thought.

He'd never noticed Ian taking this photo of him

He'd never noticed Ian taking this photo of him. It made him wonder how many more the kid had. Even though Mickey didn't like pictures being taken of him, he couldn't help feeling a little flattered. Ian has photos of him. A small smile tugged at his lip as he put the photo back in the box and shoved the box under the bed. He could hear footsteps walking upstairs and he quickly jumped up on the bed, taking his half empty bottle of alcohol with him. He let out a relieved breath when he saw Ian.

"When did you get here?" Ian asked, setting the few papers and binder he had in his hands on the nightstands. Mickey's inner snoop still not gone from looking through Ian's personal shit, he grabbed the papers, roaming his eyes over them. He sighed when he noticed the ROTC stamps.

"ROTC huh?" Mickey mumbled, trying to keep his voice from sounding rude.

"Yeah," Ian flopped down on the bed by Mickey's feet. "I always wanted to be an officer."

"That's fuckin' sad," Mickey snorted, opening the binder where all the information about the ROTC training was. "Scholarship?"

"Yeah. I have to take the SATs, which Lip can help me with, and then I can apply for a scholarship."

"You even old enough?"

"I'm turning 18, Mickey. Then I can do anything."

Mickey rolled his eyes and went back to reading the pamphlet.

REQUIREMENTS

Be a U.S. citizen  
Be between the ages of 17 and 26  
Have a high school GPA of at least 2.50  
Have a high school diploma or equivalent  
Score a minimum of 920 on the SAT (math/verbal) or 19 on the ACT (excluding the required writing test scores)  
Meet physical standards  
Agree to accept a commission and serve in the Army on Active Duty or in a Reserve Component (Army Reserve or Army National Guard)

YOUR COMMITMENT

An eight-year service commitment with the Army.  
Serve full time in the Army for four years and four years with the Individual Ready Reserve (IRR).  
Selected Cadets may choose to serve part time in the Army Reserve or Army National Guard while pursuing a civilian career.

"Pretty long commitment," Mickey commented weakly, not being able to help it. Ian cleared his throat, clearly nervous.

"Well I mean-" Ian stopped and sighed, carefully picking the papers out of Mickey's hands. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah, well no shit," Mickey snorted, sitting up. His movements caused Ian to shuffle up as well, and soon the two boys were awkwardly awaiting the other to say something first. Ian let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes.

"The training is a few months," Ian started. "Far away. But first I've got to take night classes for one semester to finish getting my credits, since this year barely worked out, then another semester at the military school. It's gonna take a while before I leave, Mick."

"How long?"

"Mi-"

"How long, Gallagher?"

Ian looked Mickey in the eye, not being able to lie to him. "Five weeks for the training. It's- it's four years commitment, Mickey."

Mickey scoffed. "My ass. Shit like this always takes forever. Why the fuck you wanna do bullshit work like this anyway? What, the military? Fuck that. Like this country is worth serving anyway."

"I think it is," Ian argued. "You said you wouldn't interfere with what I wanted."

"If I fucking knew it would be some shit like this then I-" Mickey stopped himself, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. "You know we won't work out if you fuck off to war camp."

"No, I didn't know that," Ian replied. His face was twisted into some kind of arrogant, pissed off look. "I thought we had a fucking chance, Mickey. I didn't know me going away for a few weeks would fuck everything up for you."

"A few weeks? Try a few fuckin' years!" Mickey's voice started to raise. Ian shook his head and begun gathering the papers. "Can you trust me alone here for a few years? Huh?"

"I did before!" Ian yelled, throwing the papers on the nightstand. "Now that I realize you can't even trust your fucking self, it seems goddamn stupid to think just for a few weeks you could contain your ass without me. I guess not. Somethings never change."

"Fuck you!" Mickey pushed Ian away as he left the room, slamming his bottle into the wall as he left.

"Fuck you too!" Ian shouted back, to which he got the middle finger over Mickey's shoulder before the shorter boy disappeared down the stairs. "Asshole," Ian mumbled sourly as he fell back against the bed. "Fuck."

ROTC INFORMATION FROM ( http://m.goarmy.com/rotc/high-school-students/four-year-scholarship.m.html)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos share and comment please you pretty things


	26. This is goodbye

As Mickey pulled his covers further up his chest and stared at basement ceiling, he couldn't help but feel unsatisfied with his storm out from Ian's room.

Does it count when you storm out of the room but stay in the same house? He thought to himself. Is it really as dramatic when I'm only two floors down?

Nonetheless, as much as Mickey hated it when he put Ian in a offsetting mood, his stubbornness was getting the most of him. He indistinctly hoped Ian was regretting his decisions right now. Of course Mickey was aware of how selfish he was being, but how could he not? You can't tell me you love me and then just leave.

Except Ian hadn't uttered a word about loving Mickey. That was Mickey who almost said it. Ian didn't come after Mickey after he stormed downstairs. Nobody else in the house had said a word. Mickey had walked right past Fiona, Mandy and Veronica in the kitchen, all three tense since they'd obviously heard some of the argument between Mickey and Ian. Sure, the two boys fought constantly over dumb shit but this time it seemed intense. Real. This was an argument that was endless on both sides. Neither boy would be satisfied with either of the outcomes.

Fuck, if I knew Gallagher would cause this many problems- Mickey warned himself not to say anything he'd regret. The thing about relationships like his and Ian's is that they are precious and are difficult to understand. They fight out of love.

Mickey was desperate to know what Ian might be up to alone upstairs. Was he sleeping soundly? Was he as agitated as Mickey? Was he wide awake? Was he talking to one of his helpful siblings? Mickey would never know. Well, unless Mickey got the balls to go upstairs and face the redhead but fuck that, even Mickey admits he's too stupidly stubborn to do that.

"Alright that's it," Mandy said loudly into the dark room, startling Mickey. He felt Emri next to him on the bed stir until her back was to Mickey. "What's going on?"

"The fuck are you talking about?" Mickey whispered back, careful not to wake Emri as he looked at Mandy on the mattress next to the bed. She looked up at him with red eyes from the floor.

"You're fucking mumbling to yourself, you jack ass. I'm trying to sleep, so just spill everything and get it off your pale ass chest."

Mandy sighed when she got no response from her older brother. The dark room was silent apart of Emri's heavy and sleepy breathing, and Mickey's occasional shuffle on the bed. "Mick," Mandy moved around, and Mickey guessed that she was now sitting up. "I know I haven't been there for you a lot, with you know, all the shit that went down. But I'm here now man, I got your back. Tell me what's goin' on."

"You mean with me and Ian or me and our fucked up family?"

Mandy snorted softly in the dark room. "Ian."

Mickey rolled over until he could at least almost catch a glimpse of his sister's figure in the darkness. "You know about ROTC?"

"Ohhhhhh," Mandy dragged the word out, falling back down on the mattress. "Lip told me a little bit about that while we were uh- hanging out."

"Hanging out, huh?" Mickey asked playfully.

"Fuck off. You'd find out soon enough anyway."

"How could I miss that candy ass pefume in my life?"

"Shut up. So what's the deal?"

Mickey ran a hand over his face. "The deal is that the red fuck decides to leave right when I got no problems on my ass for once."

"He isn't gonna put his life on hold forever," Mandy argued. "C'mon, you had to at least know that much."

"I fucking did," Mickey lied. He never really thought about what Ian might want, or that he actually wanted to pursue a life. Mickey was pretty much ready to settle for shit jobs the rest of his life. "But what kind of fucking life is that? He wants to be an officer, Mandy. The one job that would take forever to get with the most distance."

Mandy clicked her tongue disappointedly. "You can't blame the kid for having ambition. If I were you, I'd be damn happy my boyfriend was at least trying to make something out of himself, especially where we live. Most kids around here die in alleyways overdosed on drugs or some shit. Ian isn't gonna let himself waste away. You gotta be damn proud he even thought of being something."

Fuck. Mickey brought his hand to his face and covered his eyes, sucking in a deep breath to hold his tears back. Mandy was right. Mickey should be proud Ian wanted to be something. The kid had ambition. How rare is that around here? "What do I do, Mandy?"

"You wanna be an officer?"

"Fuck that."

"Go to Ian. Mick, you guys can still work out even if he's gone for a while. The shit you two have been through, fuck if your not soulmates already."

"I'll do it tomorrow," Mickey decided, swallowing his pride. He heard Mandy fall back against the mattress with a pleased sound. In a few minutes her heavy breathing filled the room with Emri's and the two girls were sound asleep. Quietly, Mickey picked up his phone and read the time, 3:57 am. He carefully slid off the bed and tip toed upstairs, shrugging a sweater on. Dialing Iggy's number, he waited in the kitchen for the boy to pick up.

"What?" Iggy's tired voice came through the phone.

"Were you asleep?"

"No I was fucking swimming. Yeah, I was fucking asleep. That a crime now?"

"Where?" Mickey asked.

"None of your goddamn business," Iggy barked. Mickey sighed when he heard a woman's voice in the background.

"Alright. You know where Colin is?"

Iggy's response was hanging up, which was genuinely something Mickey expected. That meant he didn't know where Colin was. Mickey couldn't find the energy to sleep though, so he settled for dialing Jamie's number.

"Yup?" Jamie answered, sounding chirpy as hell. Mickey asked if he knew of Colin's whereabouts. "Nah," Jamie responded. "Probably crashing at Seb's though."

Mickey decided to dial Colin himself. After the fourth ring Colin picked up. "Something wrong?"

"No," Mickey replied, a little surprised Colin even picked up. "Where are you?"

"Why?" Colin's voice was sharp, irritated.

"Just asking, fuck."

There was a pause and rattle. He heard a faint voice in the back, "It's locked. We gotta bust it." Colin sighed loudly. "Mick, I gotta go. You need something call James or Iggy."

"Wait, what's locked-" Mickey groaned when he realized Colin had hung up. Mickey glanced at the stairs and chewed on his bottom lip, contemplating going to Ian. Deciding to just go for it he slowly padded up the dark stairs, using his phone as a light. Tentatively he glanced into Ian's room and shined the light at the bed, which was empty. He furrowed his eyebrows, checking to see if Liam and Carl were in their beds. They were, sound asleep. He walked to the spare room and opened the door to find Lip in the bed, asleep. He checked all the other rooms, but there was no sign of Ian. Heart racing he almost tripped over his feet while running back to Ian's room, throwing the drawers open. His heart jumped in his throat when he saw nothing, all of Ian's clothes and belongings gone. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, no, no-"

Mickey threw the front door open and ran outside, dialling Ian's number. He sprinted to the dugouts, the streetlights not doing much to help him as he searched the bleachers. Ian didn't pick up the phone. Mickey didn't stop trying. He repeatedly called again and again as he felt himself hyperventilate. The one good thing in his life is gone. The one thing that kept his going all this time left him. At that moment, while Mickey stood in the dark night under a lamppost providing as much energy as he had, he realized he was toxic. He meant nothing. He failed, as a person, a son, a boyfriend, as anything.

The one reason he bothered living for is now dead to him.

Mickey slumped back against the post and slid down until he sat on the concrete, tears effortlessly falling down his cheeks. He sobbed, tore at his skin, and slowly ate away at himself. His chest was tight and his throat closed as if he'd swallowed a thousand knives. Mickey's lungs felt like they were burning and he couldn't breathe, but he still forced himself to inhale and feel the pain. His fists were clenched so hard his nails bit into his palm and his knuckles were white, but there was nothing around him to hit. He wanted to scream so loud he'd lose his voice, but he knew no one would listen.

It seemed no one ever listened. This cold, empty street was a perfect resemblance of how the boy felt as he sat on the streets he grew up in, and finally allowed himself to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please share kudos and comment thank you


	27. It Hurts Inside

"What the fuck do you mean he's gone?"

"He left. Ian is gone, Lip. Last night, he took off."

"What the fu- why?"

Fiona glanced at Mickey, who sat at the kitchen table staring at the wall ahead of him. The tear stains, the red eyes, the look in his eyes- it broke Fiona's heart. They blue eyes were now empty, the beauty that was once in them gone. It was as if Mickey had cried the colour away. The way his face was twisted into a look that seemed as if he couldn't stomach his pain any longer. His fingers clenched against the tabletop.

"Fuck, Mickey!" Lip shouted, startling Fiona although Mickey didn't move an inch. It was as if he wasn't aware of all going on around him. Everybody was frantic about Ian leaving, and deep down they all knew there was only once person to blame.

Mickey. But with his state, almost nobody had the heart to blame him.

"Does anything go fucking right in this house!?" Lip seethed. He gave one last disgusted look to Mickey, but Fiona saw right through it. Lip wasn't stupid, he knew the pain Mickey must be going through. Lip turned and left the room with one last curse. Fiona gave a sympathetic look to Mickey who looked as if he'd break down in tears.

"Mickey-"

"Don't," Mickey croaked. He weakly met Fiona's eyes but couldn't keep a stare. He averted his eyes as quickly as he met them, and looked down at the table again. "It's all my fucking fault. I get it. I... I just fucking..."

Mickey stopped, letting a tear fall down his left cheek. He closed his eyes as his lips trembled, not even bothering to hide himself. "I," he started again, cutting himself off with a broken sob. He looked at Fiona with watery eyes. "I can't put into words how much my fucking heart is aching right now."

And with that he slowly stood up and left the house, leaving a devastated Fiona behind.

-  
-  
One week later

As Colin walked towards his youngest brother who sat in the dugouts, he felt himself slow at the state of the boy. Mickey was drinking some shitty alcohol, sitting underneath the chin up bar. Fresh tears stained his cheeks, and it was obvious he'd gotten no sleep the past few days. His eyes redder than ever, a stubble growing on his chin, body small and weak. 

"Hey," Colin spoke as he approached Mickey, leaning against the pole beside his brother. Mickey didn't acknowledge his presence. Just stared ahead as if he was the only person left in the world. "How you-"

"You remember that time, when you got thrown in jail for the first time? I was only seven years old?"

Colin stared at Mickey wide eyed for a minute. Mickey still stared ahead, as if he'd said nothing. Colin crossed one ankle over the other and shoved his hands in his pockets. Clearing his throat, he replied, "Yeah. I got caught doin' graffiti on the school wall."

"And Iggy had to drag me to the prison so I could visit you?"

"He did? Shit."

"And he told you," Mickey paused and sniffled, wiping his nose. "He told you it was no big deal? That I didn't put up a fight at all?"

"Yeah."

"When you were gone, that was the first time I felt some kind of pain that wasn't physical. I wasn't getting my ass beat by dad, and I wasn't in a school fight. It hurt inside of me, Colin. I didn't know why. I couldn't make it stop. I was so fucking young, sitting on the porch stairs and crying my little heart out because I lost my big brother. I was so goddamn distraught over a small crime you did, because I didn't know you'd be back the next day. I thought you were gone forever.

"It burns, Colin. I know you might never understand it, but just fucking try to feel what I am right now. I am hurting inside. My stomach churns when I think of how he left. The one reason I had left to live, my will to breathe everyday left me. Now you tell me, what do I got left? I ain't got shit here without him. Yesterday I wanted to down a whole fucking bottle of pills and drown in alcohol, but I knew it wouldn't make a fucking difference because I been dead since he left. You don't know how it feels when someone says you matter, you can do it, you can make it, I believe in you, and then they leave. He took whatever fucking hope and life I had left with him, man. I'm done, it's over."

Colin had no words. He looked down at his brother, mirroring the face Mickey had which was full of sorrow and grief. He had tears pricking at his eyes, because he realized that Mickey really was affected by this. This wasn't just a breakup, it was a heartbreak. His little brother was destroyed forever. "You think... maybe he'll come back?"

Mickey gave one little shake of his head and looked at the ground, picking at the gravel  
Mickey gave one little shake of his head and looked at the ground, picking at the gravel. "Nah, he ain't the type." He looked up and gave a bitter laugh. "Fuck, he's stubborn. It's like I fuckin'... brainwashed myself into thinking he might come back. I'm making myself mad, man. Waiting for him, I get more pissed by the second."

"At who?" Colin asked quietly.

"I don't know," Mickey replied truthfully. "Him or me. I'm mad at everything. I'm mad that he wasn't happy and that he didn't tell me. He just ran off. You know what that means? It means he thought I wouldn't care. That if he told me he was unhappy I wouldn't give a single fuck, and that's why he ran off without a word."

"You know," Colin cleared his throat, kicking lightly at the gravel underneath his feet. "Those who don't care anymore once cared too much."

Mickey shook his head, not bothering to believe his brother's words. "A few months ago he was the reason I didn't kill myself. Now he's the fucking reason I want to die."

"C'mon, Mickey. Don't talk like-"

"Am I that easy to walk away from?" Mickey interrupted, looking up at Colin. "Shit. I wouldn't be able to fucking do what he did, just leave without a trace, a note, anything."

"You can't blame yourself-"

"He left his family because of me, the most perfect fucking thing to do is blame myself," Mickey spat. He chugged the rum down, throwing the bottle and hearing glass break distantly. "It's not just him leaving. His whole family is broke up over him leaving. I'm the reason for that. Now Fiona and Lip are gonna be worrying about him while I sit around on my ass. I already looked for hin, asked around, no sign. He's gone, man."

"Sounds like you don't wanna find him," Colin commented quietly. Mickey didn't have the energy to argue.

"He doesn't want me to find him, what's the fucking point?"

"So that's it?" Colin asked unbelievably, scoffing a little. "You're just gonna sit on your ass? Don't you want a fucking answer? Don't you wanna know why the bitch left?"

Mickey didn't reply, but Colin knew he made a point. "You gotta hunt the fucker down and ask him. You deserve to know, Mick. You do. And if you're not gonna do anything about it then you're gonna end up sitting on your ass forever waiting and wondering why he left. Go get your answers man, you deserve them."

Mickey said nothing, but his expression had changed a little. Colin could see the tiniest bit of life reenter him. Wordlessly, Mickey stumbled to his feet and weakly pulled at Colin, throwing his arms over his older brother's shoulders as he hugged him. Colin froze before slowly putting his hands on Mickey's back and hugging him tightly. He tried not to think of how long it had been since he hugged Mickey.

Mickey pressed his face into Colin's neck. This, at least this, could maybe last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos comment share thank you


	28. Rehab Needed

"You know, we could use some help around here," the man said thoughtfully as he eyed Mickey carefully, rubbing his dirty hands with a cloth. Mickey shifted awkwardly onto his other foot.

"I can fix cars man," Mickey reassured the man. He stood uncomfortably in the middle of an auto mechanical garage in front of the owner Dean Singer who used to be friends with Mickey's uncle Rodney- before Rodney slept with his wife. Thankfully he probably didn't know about Mickey's relation to the man.

Dean put the cloth down and gestured to the broken up car behind him. "Fix this and I'll give ya 400 plus a job."

Mickey walked towards the car, inspecting it boredly. He cracked the hood open. The engine was fine, but the gas tank and battery were busted. It shouldn't take him more than two weeks to get it back in shape. "Alright. Done."

Dean nodded and passed Mickey a uniform and a name tag. "There's pens in the back, write your name and throw the suit on. Anybody comes in with a car, tell 'em to park it at the side and I'll be with 'em in a minute."

Mickey nodded, heading to the back. He put the navy jumpsuit on over his white tank top, eyeing the Dean's Garage sewed in on the side of the left arm. He scribbled his name on the tag with a sharpie and hooked it in the chest pocket. He slipped his feet into the black boots and left his own clothes on the table, folded.

\---

 

\---

"Mickey?"

Mickey glanced up, squinting in the hot July sun at Dean who held a sweating bottle of beer towards him. Mickey moved away from the open hood of the car and took the bottle graciously, chugging it down and feeling some of the liquid drip down his stubbled chin.

"You got a lot down in one day," Dean noticed contently as he looked at the car, drinking his own beer. He fixed his old baseball cap on his head and smiled at Mickey. "That's the type'a worker I'm lookin' for, son."

Mickey didn't reply. He felt the hot sun burning on the back of his neck, no doubt tanning (or burning) him. He had unzipped the top of the jumpsuit, letting the top half hang out by his waist while he kept the pants up, letting his tank top clad torso free to the cool air that came occasionally from the fan near him. "I'll have it done in a week or two. Thanks for the beer."

"No problem." Dean turned and walked back to his office. "I close up at 8."

By the time Mickey returned home, he was exhausted from his long day's work. He did his usual routine of entering the Milkovich house he'd finally returned to with his siblings, made himself dinner, maybe watched some TV then went to bed. His siblings would either be sleeping or out by the time he'd get home, so nobody bothered him. Then he'd be out before they woke up the next morning.

Mickey inhaled sharply at the sight of Jamie on the couch, sipping on a juice box while watching TV. He hasn't seen Jamie in a long time. Silently, Mickey closed the front door behind him and threw his keys on the coffee table. Jamie glanced up at his brother who barely acknowledged his presence. "Oh, hey Mick."

Mickey grunted in reply. He shuffled away to the kitchen and took taquitos out of the freezer, throwing them on a pan and shoving them into the oven. He could distantly hear Jamie enter the kitchen. "Fuck are you doin' here anyway?" 

Jamie was a little startled that Mickey spoke. "I live here."

"You ain't been around for days," Mickey replied, taking coke out of the fridge and pouring some into a cup. Jamie watched him carefully.

"You noticed? Shit Mickey, didn't know you were aware of any shit goin' on around you."

Mickey rolled his eyes as he gulped down the cold drink. "Fuck are you talking about?"

"It's been a month, man," Jamie exclaimed, though keeping calm. Mickey sucked in a deep breath and looked down at the counter. "Don't get me wrong, I know you need time but shit- believe it or not, the other Gallagher's keep askin' about you."

"Tell them I'm fine."

"Something wrong with you telling them?"

Mickey didn't reply. He took the taquitos out of the oven and turned it off, putting them into a plate. He took a bottle of ketchup with him to the kitchen table and sat down. Jamie watched him with raised eyebrows, waiting for a response from his brother. Mickey met his eyes and shrugged carelessly, eating his dinner.   
Jamie mimicked the shrug dramatically, throwing his shoulders up. "The fuck does this mean?"

Mickey did it again just to piss his brother off. "I'm over it, alright? Dean gave me the job at the garage, I'm off probation, everything's going fine now."

Mickey sighed when Jamie still stood there, watching him with this look that made Mickey very uncomfortable. "I'll fuckin' meet the Gallagher's tomorrow, alright? Jesus, please go away now and let me eat in peace. Jeez."

Jamie snatched a taquito and ran off happily. Mickey watched him go, rolling his eyes.

\---

Mickey was out on the porch the next day, smoking a cigarette while watching kids run and bike around the street. He heard someone clear their throat loudly, interrupting his thoughts. He raised an eyebrow while looking down at Lip, who he hadn't seen since the day after Ian left. "Mandy ain't here."

"I'm not here for her," Lip replied, putting his hands on the fence. Mickey watched him, the nervous squinty look on his face while looking up at Mickey. He wore a t shirt and shorts, hair grown out.

"Fuck you want then?"

"I just wanted to apologize for... you know, that day. I didn't mean to make you think it was your fault, Mickey. Ian's a big kid, he makes his own decisions. You didn't force him to do anything, nonetheless leave..."

His words were empty to Mickey, just like everyone else's were as well. Mickey had learned to block out their words of pity, sympathy or whatever else the fuck they were saying. It didn't mean jack shit to him. He had made up his mind about Ian leaving. There was nothing he could do about it, the kid left so he left. No matter how much it might hurt Mickey's chest whenever he thought about the prick, he's willing himself to move on.   
"...anyway, I wanted to know if you'd hang with me? You know, catch up."

Mickey brought the cigarette back to his lips and inhaled, letting the smoke free as he spoke. "Can't today. Got work and grabbing a beer with Larkin later."

"Shit you got a job? Where?"

Mickey flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it. "Dean's Garage. Fixin' cars and shit."

"You still hang with Larkin? Even after he arrested you last week?"

Mickey met Lip's eyes with a dangerous expression, his eyes fiery and mouth turned into a sour grimace. It was clear he didn't like to be reminded of the outburst he had last week. "Whatever."

With that Mickey headed off, leaving Lip at the fence.

\---

Mickey was rolled underneath the car, fixing up the pipes when he saw two big black boots standing patiently next to the car. He rolled out from underneath the car and looked up at Colin. "Hey man."

"Mickey," Colin held a hand out for Mickey and pulled him up to his feet. He looked down at Mickey's uniform. "Garage, huh?"

Mickey shrugged, putting the tools in his hands down on a table near him. "Pays, gets food on the table. Plus it's better than working at a factory slaving my ass away."

Colin hummed and nodded in agreement. He watched as Mickey picked up more tools from his toolbox and walked around to the front of the car, popping the hood. "So. You been drinking?"

Mickey's eyes glanced up at Colin's chest but he didn't look his brother in the eye. "Had a beer yesterday."

Colin almost flinched at the smallness in Mickey's voice. He was still so not used to Mickey like this; all fragile and quiet and independent. Though he knew his younger brother would never admit that he's turned into this new person. "That's not bad. What about the sessions?"

"I don't need fucking rehab," Mickey spat out each word, distracting himself with the car. "Whatever, I drank too much. I stopped now, I'm good. Last week was just one fucking mistake, alright?"

Colin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus, Mick. Your probation officer won't take you off until you make at least one sesh."

"I don't need it," Mickey squinted up at Colin through the beaming sunlight, a distraught look on his face. "I'm fine now."

"The probation skank's gonna find out you're not going all in with the court's agreement then she'll have your ass on the line," Colin argued sternly. "The only reason you're not in jail right now is because Larkin got you off the hook."

Mickey swallowed his pride and stood up, wiping a hand over his sweaty forehead. "You know what? Fine, fuck it. I'll go to your goddamn rehab session. Only one, just to get it over with."

Colin nodded. "Good. Get the address from Larkin or call the prob officer."

"I'm catching up with Larkin later, I'll ask him then."

"Might wanna wash up. You got gunk all over your forehead from when you wiped it."

Mickey looked down in the shitty reflection of the busted window and groaned, picking up a paper towel and wetting it. Colin chuckled and slapped Mickey's shoulder before walking off.

\---

"So Mick, how've you been doing?" Larkin asked as the two sat at the counter of some random bar in the city. Mickey shrugged and took a sip of his coke.

"Getting on. Got a job at Dean's Garage, thanks for telling me about it."

Larkin cracked a peanut shell open. "Yeah man, no problem. I would've taken you to the Alibi, but Kev still won't let up after last week with... well you know."

"Yeah I know," Mickey glanced down guiltily at his coke. Larkin followed his movements and placed a gentle hand on Mickey's shoulder.

"Hey, you been through a lot lately alright? You don't gotta feel bad about what happened. People loose their shit at the Alibi all the time."

"I didn't 'loose my shit', Larkin. I was drunk off my mind."

"Yeah, you still sober?"

"Ever since that day, yeah. One week sober. Can't remember the last time I lasted this long. I'm not even craving a drink, man. Well, except for a beer yesterday."

"One beer isn't so bad," Larkin commented. "I'm thinking you should go to Kev, apologize or some shit. Gallagher's are like family to him and you're like family to the Gallagher's. He'll understand."

Mickey nodded. "Yeah, maybe."

"There's the rehab address by the way." Larkin slid a small piece of paper to Mickey. "One session and you're off probation."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, share and comment please


	29. I Wish You Never Came Back

"We're all here for our own personal reasons, and we've all done things we regret. Frankly, I believe there is no such thing as a mistake somebody couldn't overcome."

Mickey tried his best not to roll his eyes at the councilor's words, he really did. But he hated sitting in this damn circle, surrounded by druggies and assholes who got what they deserved while some lowlife looking for some extra cash on the side listens to their problems. It all seemed cliché.   
"We have a newbie here today," the councilor, Anthony, held a hand towards Mickey who sat uncomfortably in his chair, fingers interlaced on his lap. He gave a curt nod in response to the scattered "hello's" he received. Anthony crossed his legs. "Tell us a little bit about yourself, Mickey."

Well, my asshole of an ex-boyfriend left me to God knows where after my brother killed my dad and probably my mom too- "I'm Mickey. I'm here for beating the shit out of some prick while I was drunk."

"Yeah I remember that," one woman said from the other side of the circle, chewing her nails. "You know that 'prick' is still in the hospital, right?"

Mickey glanced at her with his jaw clenched, biting back any words he'd regret saying. All he had to do was get this damn session over with and he could go home. "I did my time."

"Yeah, a night in a cell and probation, that's fucking great," the woman scowled.

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" A man next to Mickey spat out at the woman. Mickey raised an eyebrow and looked at him, the whole circle quiet. "You don't know shit. Just keep popping pills while you still can."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, here," Anthony interrupted, giving the man a hard stare. "Casey, we talked about this. You can't lash out at everyone. And Sophie, it isn't your place to call out Mickey on something he's clearly done his time for."

Nobody said anything. Anthony sat back in his chair comfortably and placed his hands on his lap. "So, who would like to go first and tell us what they've achieved this week?"

Nobody in the 10-some people group replied. There were scattered coughs and sneezes here and there, but nobody wanted to step forward. Mickey slumped his shoulders. This was going to be a long few hours.

"How about you, Casey?" Anthony suggested. Mickey heard Casey's low groan and smirked a little to himself. It's good to know he wasn't the only one who thought this was complete bullshit. "I'm interested in knowing how your week went."

"I bet you fucking are," Casey mumbled under his breath. Mickey snickered, covering it up with a cough. He saw Casey look at him from the corner of his eye. Casey sat up and cleared his throat. "Well, I didn't punch my barista in the face when he put whipped cream on my coffee. I mean, who the fuck does that? Who puts fucking whipped cream on coffee?"

People muttered agreements. "Yeah man, you heard of Starbucks? Those assholes got whip cream on every fucking thing they sell," a man said from another chair. Casey agreed.

"I saw some guy eat gum the other day, without talking the damn wrapper off," another woman added in. "What the fuck is wrong with people?"

Everybody shook their heads disapprovingly. Casey sighed. "They're all lazy man, lazy."

Mickey was entertained. These people are completely ignoring their own problems and are taking it out on other smaller things. The woman sticks needles full of drugs in her arms but is giving some guy shit for chewing gum with the wrapper. Mickey chuckled to himself. It's genius.

"Improvement is good guys, but judging isn't," Anthony protested. The group quieted down. "Until we fix our problems we cannot call others out on theirs."

"Well why not?" Mickey blurted. Everybody stared at him. "We can fix them and ourselves. Kill two birds with one stone."

People mumbled agreements. "I suppose you're right, Mickey. But tell me, Mason, did you confront the man who chewed his gum with the wrapper?" Mason shook her head. "And Casey, did you correct the man who put the whipped cream on your coffee?"

"Nah man, I was fucking tired," Casey replied in his Brooklyn accent.

"Exactly. Because you didn't do those things, you pent up that anger inside you. You all need to learn to let it out at the moment, because if you don't, you'll end up letting it out on the wrong person."

\---

Mickey picked up a donut and bit through the white powder, pouring himself coffee with the other hand.

"Want some whipped cream on that?" Mickey turned around to face Casey. Mickey chuckled, shaking his head.

"Nah, you'd judge me for it."

"Yeah and Anthony would have my ass with another lecture," Casey chuckled. Mickey moved away so Casey could pour himself some coffee too. "I'm Casey."

"Mickey." They shook hands. Mickey put his donut down and wiped his face. "How long you been here?"

"Anger management bullshit, got me a few weeks," Casey shrugged, mixing his coffee. "You?"

"One sesh and I'm off probation," Mickey replied. Casey raised his eyebrows.

"Lucky you. Especially after you knocked that guy out his socks, I bet money you'd be in prison."

"You heard about that?"

"You kiddin' me? Whole fuckin' town did. You're lucky you had that cop on your side."

"It was a fight on both sides," Mickey looked down at his coffee. "Plus, the asshole threw the first punch."

Casey nodded. "Nice talkin' to ya Mickey Milkovich, see you around."

With that Casey turned and walked away, leaving the small church with his coffee. Just as he shut the door behind him Mickey's phone vibrated, averting his attention. He fished his phone out of his pocket and looked down at the message, almost spilling his coffee all over himself.

One new voice message from Ian

He sputtered and caught the coffee before it fell, some of the liquid falling over the edge of the cup onto his hand. Mickey hissed and dropped the cup on the table, coffee spilling everywhere. He cursed under his breath and dabbed at the mess with napkins.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted under his breath, deciding to abandon the fucking mess and stalk over to the church doors. He fumbled to open his voice mail and by the time he got the phone pressed to his ear his breath was coming out in uneven gasps and his eyes were wide as saucers. 

"Hey... uh, Mick. Listen, so I needed to tell you that I'm... not home right now so you should get - uh... over here right now. Unghhh, I'm fucking- it's so hot here Mick..."

Mickey's mouth twisted in disgust. Was Ian fucking... drunk? He avoided closing the phone and forced himself through the rest of the message, which was pretty much just a lot of mumbles and incoherent words. By the time the voice mail ended, twenty minutes had passed. All Ian repeated in the message was "I miss you" and some slurred words. Mickey scoffed and shoved his phone back in his pocket, fighting the tears in his eyes. Fuck Ian.

Mickey went back inside the church for a signature from Anthony on his probation letter advising that he did indeed go to a councilling session. "Maybe you should come back one day, Mickey," Anthony suggested after he signed the paper. Mickey fought back any sarcasm. "It was nice having you here, for one day."

Mickey said goodbye and left the church, heading straight to the Gallagher home.

\---

"Drunk?" Lip exclaimed. He shook his head and took another sip of his beer. "Can't say I'm surprised. Kid's a fucking mess."

Mickey didn't reply. The two boys sat in the Gallagher kitchen, a place Mickey was so used to but now felt foreign. Lip stared at him almost experimentally. "So. How've you been holding up?"

"It's been a month and a half man, I'm fucking over it," Mickey replied with no heat. He finished his coke and crushed the can. "You should try calling him, you know. He might pick up now."

"You won't?"

Mickey glanced up at Lip and shook his head. "Nah. I'm done calling his ass."

Lip shrugged and took his phone out, dialing Ian's number. He put it on speaker and dropped the phone on the table. Neither boy looked surprised when the call went straight to Ian's voice mail. Lip put the phone back in his pocket. "My guess is Ian doesn't know he left that message. Probably too hungover to even remember."

"I just came to tell you that," Mickey tossed the can in the trash and stood up. "I got work."

The front door opened and Fiona came in, hands full with grocery bags and Liam. She grinned when she saw Mickey. "Oh, Mickey! It's been a while."

"Been busy," Mickey grumbled, helping Fiona with the bags. He placed them on the counter.

"Yeah, I bet," Fiona sighed and placed her hands on her hips, smiling sweetly. "So. What brings you here?"

"Ian left him a drunk voice mail," Lip explained from his spot at the table. "At least we know Ian's alive."

"Shit well, that's good," Fiona let out a heavy breath, unpacking the groceries. "You stayin' for dinner?"

Mickey glanced at the clock on the wall. "I got work now, so."

"You should come back, when you get off," Fiona suggested. "By the time I've finished dinner it'll be around 6. You can get off by then right?"

Mickey chewed his lip. It was only one in the afternoon now, so he'd have to ask Dean if he'll let him off at that time. "I'll ask Dean and let you know."

"Alright, give me a text!" Fiona called out as Mickey left the house. Mickey didn't reply.

He spent the rest of his long day working on the car. Dean was in his office dealing with a customer.

Mickey was under the car when he saw two big black boots appear next to the car, startling him. He groaned when he almost hit his head on the car but he rolled out nonetheless, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he saw Casey. "Fuck- Casey?"

Casey's eyebrows shot up, mirroring Mickey's surprise. "Oh shit, Mickey? You work here?"

Mickey scrambled up, wiping his forehead and breathing heavily. "Yeah, for a week now. Do you?"

"No, no," Casey shook his head. He put his hand on the car. "Just wanted to know when my car would be done, but looks like it'll take a few more weeks."

"So you're the asshole I'm breaking my back for." Casey laughed guiltily. "What happened anyway?"

"Car accident. They blamed it on my anger, so that's why I'm in sessions."

"Shit," Mickey replied quietly. "Well. It'll be a few more weeks man, sorry."

"It's fine," Casey gave a lopsided smile. He stared at Mickey for a minute, before taking a deep breath and walking away. Mickey watched him leave, feeling the hole in his stomach deepen.

Ian really fucked him up.

"Who was that?"

Mickey turned around and looked at Dean who had just emerged from his office, the two customers leaving. "Casey. He owns this car, wanted to know when it would be done."

Dean nodded. Before he could go back into his office but Mickey stopped him before he could leave. "Hey Dean, uh- you think I could get off at 6 today?"

Dean pursed his lips in thought. "What's the occasion? I ain't payin' you for nothing."

"Family get-together."

"Family huh?" Mickey nodded tensely. "Why not? Be in at 8 am tomorrow."

\---

After the quiet and calm dinner, Mickey found himself lounged comfortably on the Gallagher couch with a sleeping Liam tucked in at his side. He didn't know how the kid got there, but he looked too damn peaceful for Mickey to move him. Instead, Mickey turned the volume of the TV down and put his arm around the toddler, warming himself.

"That's a picture."

Before Mickey could say anything Debbie had snapped the photo of him and Liam on her phone, grinning almost proudly at her work. Mickey scowled up at her but said nothing, not wanting to wake Liam. At that moment, he realized he's never had a child cuddled up against him like this. God, his life is so fucking sad.

"Here, I'll move him," Fiona whispered apologetically, reaching for the small boy. Mickey shook his head quickly, probably a little too quickly.

"It's fine. I'll bring him up later."

Fiona smiled and nodded, going back to the kitchen. Lip sunk down on the love seat next to the TV and smirked at Mickey, shaking his head. Mickey paid no attention to Lip and instead watched Jason Statham take down assholes on TV, the volume low.

-

-

-  
-

Mickey's eyes blinked open when he felt a hand tugging at his hair. He groaned into the dark room aside from the lamp. He saw Lip dead asleep on the couch with an empty beer bottle in his hand, then he turned his head to came face with Liam.

"I'm scared," Liam whispered into the room, pressed up against Mickey's side. Mickey rubbed his face, body sore from sleeping in the same position for hours. He checked the time on his phone and sighed, looking up at Liam tiredly.

"Alright buddy, let's go upstairs," weakly, Mickey picked Liam up with one arm and a blanket with the other. He draped the blanket over Lip before shutting the lamp off, then traveled upstairs to the spare room. He laid Liam down on the bed and watched it curl up in the comforter, big eyes looking up at Mickey. It was too damn late for Mickey to go home and he was too tired, so he fell down on the bed next to the toddler.

He couldn't help but smile when the young boy cuddled up against him.

\---

Mickey was wide awake at 7 the next morning, due to Liam being afraid of peeing without someone standing outside the door, then the little boy being hungry and wanting breakfast. Out of the good of his heart, Mickey decided not to wake the other Gallagher's and instead to make Liam and himself breakfast since he'd be at work in an hour anyway.

"Mickey," Liam hummed as he ate his waffles drenched his syrup, his fingers getting all sticky.

"Yeah?" Mickey asked, pouring the both of them some orange juice.

"Where's Ian?"

Mickey glanced up at Liam, not being able to send a dirty look to the innocent look on his face. Mickey swallowed the lump in his throat and put the orange juice down. "I don't know."

Liam didn't say anything. After a while Fiona came downstairs, eyes softening when she saw Mickey with Liam. "Hey guys."

"Mickey made waffles!" Liam cheered. Fiona grinned.

"Thanks, Mickey," Fiona sighed as she tied her hair into a ponytail. "It's nice to see you getting close to us."

Mickey stood up and shrugged, ruffling Liam's hair before mumbling about being late for work and leaving.

If he couldn't get close to Ian, maybe he could at least get close to his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos shares and comments are like chocolates


	30. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, you don't.

"There's like, a rumbling sound in the engine or something."

Mickey wrote the woman's words down on the clipboard and nodded. "How 'bout you turn the car on so I can hear it myself?"

The woman nodded and got in the car. Mickey turned his head and squinted his eyes in the afternoon sun, a small smile playing on his lips when he saw Casey. The sound of a loud, ear piercing rumbling cut through Mickey's grin as he turned his attention back to the car, eyebrows furrowing. He went back to the hood of the car, looking through it to find any congestion or something like that. He glanced up at the woman as she got out of her car. "I'm thinking you gotta oil these pipes, and stop pressing down so hard on your accelerator. You jammed up the engine pretty good from that. You been drag racing lately?"

Mickey meant it as a joke, but the woman went red and gave a guilty smile. "Seriously?"

"It's an addiction," she bit the inside of her cheek. "When can you have it fixed by?"

Casey was now waiting by the entrance of the garage. Mickey looked down at the car again. "Come in tomorrow 'round three. Should be fixed by then."

The woman nodded and thanked Mickey before leaving. Mickey walked towards Casey and let out a long breath. "Long day, huh?"

"Dean and I are the only bastards working here since the other guy, James, is off on family death or something," Mickey explained as he put the clipboard down on the table. "Been working all fucking morning."

"I almost feel bad asking this but," Casey gestured to his car, which sat clean and sparkly behind Mickey. Mickey smiled and pat the hood of the newly painted red car.

"It's all done man," Mickey stated proudly, his hand running over the smooth plastic. "Two weeks worth of work put into this baby."

"It looks great, Mickey," Casey smiled, honesty apparent in his eyes. "It really does."

Mickey nodded with a grin. "It better look great."

Casey laughed and pat Mickey's shoulder, then walked off to Dean's office. With pride, Mickey began walked back to the other car, bending over to inspect the hood.

"Well that's a sight to see."

Mickey's heart stopped. His body began to tremble, hands shaking against the engine. He turned his head, eyes wide, face red, and faced Ian. His lips trembled at the calm, collected smile on Ian's lips and his affectionate eyes. Everything, all his confusion and sadness from the past month disappeared when he looked down at what Ian wore.

An army uniform.

Eyes stone cold, he looked up at Ian and met his eyes. His heart didn't feel the same as it used to. He was angry. Filled with hurt. There was no... affection. "You got some fucking balls coming here."

Ian's mouth dropped open slightly, but he didn't seem surprised at Mickey's reaction. "Mickey, I..."

Mickey raised his eyebrows, sucking his bottom lip in. He held his arms out. "What? What the fuck do you want?"

Ian didn't reply. Anger was fueling through Mickey, he felt possessed by it. He walked to Ian, their faces only inches apart as he glared at the taller man. "The fuck did you think, Gallagher? You could fuck off for a few weeks and right when you decide come back I'm gonna be back at your feet like some bitch? Fuck you think, I put my life on hold for you, crying, whining like some broken girl? Fuck you, man. Fuck. You."

Ian looked away from Mickey's eyes. Mickey looked down at Ian's uniform at disgust, eying the Ian Gallagher name on the chest pocket. Mickey's hand came up simultaneously, rubbing his thumb over the name. "Well, you got what you wanted, huh? Ran off, left everyone fucking wondering where you were, made your dreams come true." Mickey gave Ian a push at the shoulder, sending him a few steps back. "You're fucking selfish, is what you are. You know what? Fuck me for ever giving a shit about you, you prick."

Ian's eyes showed nothing but regret, sadness, fear, but it seemed he couldn't say anything. Mickey scoffed and turned back around, walking away. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, stopping his tears from falling. He stopped when he heard a soft, desperate voice behind him. "Don't..."

Mickey turned around, jaw clenched as he stared at Ian who wouldn't meet his eyes. Ian stared at the floor, hands twitching around the bag he held. "Don't what?"

Ian's eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled deeply, mouth open but no words coming out. Mickey lost his temper, throwing the rag in his hands on the floor and laughing loudly. "Don't what, Gallagher!?"

"Don't leave!" Ian cried out, tears starting to stain his cheeks. "I- I love you!"

Mickey was seething. He took huge paces towards Ian, not waiting a second before throwing a punch across Ian's face. He stared as Ian clutched his mouth, blood filling his mouth. Ian doubled over and looked up at him, eyes red and filled with tears, much likes Mickey's. Mickey forced Ian up, hands gripping the collar of Ian's uniform.

"No you don't," Mickey whispered venomously, tears falling from his eyes. He stared into Ian's eyes deeply, heart breaking with each word. Ian stared right back, sobbing as his hands cupped Mickey's face. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have left me at the worst time in my life. If you loved me, my feelings would've been your first goddamn priority, not your goddamn army uniform. If you loved me, you would've seen the fucking pain I was feeling under and you wouldn't have left me like that. If you loved me, you wouldn't have come back and added more pain onto what I'm already feeling. You would've let me move on. But you just fucking did, didn't you? So no, Ian, you don't love me. You don't. You didn't. You won't."

Mickey's hands gripped Ian's wrists, moving the boy's hands off of Mickey's face. "Because I don't love you."

At that, Ian's crying stopped, and in his eyes Mickey could see that Ian's whole life had just shattered

At that, Ian's crying stopped, and in his eyes Mickey could see that Ian's whole life had just shattered. He never looked away from Mickey's eyes, his own eyes wide and hands weakly falling to his sides as Mickey let him go. Mickey turned around, crying his heart out as he left Ian standing there, heart shattered and all over the floor, while staring at the spot Mickey was, realization hitting him.

\---

Lip slowly walked up the stairs, not making a sound when he reached the front of Ian's room. The door was closed, but he could hear heavy breathing from inside. Quietly, he twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open. Ian's back was to the door, his body curled up on the bed with the covers slipping off. "Hey, Ian."

Ian didn't reply. Lip continued. "Fi told me you came home today, out of the blue. That's great. We were uh, really worried."

Nothing. Ian was silent. Lip bit the inside of his cheek and pushed himself off the doorframe, closing the door.

As soon as he heard the door click shut, Ian let out a long, painful sob. His chest was tight, his breathing confined from the tears. The pillow under him was wet on both sides with tears. Nonetheless, it seemed he could never stop. Every time he closed his eyes, Mickey's face came in his mind.

"Because I don't love you." 

Ian cried out at that again, trying to conceal his sounds into the pillow. His heart yearned and yelled at him, blaming himself. Of course he'd blame himself. He's been blaming himself since the day he left. He knew it was stupid, foolish to leave like that. But he didn't know what to do. Stupidly, he thought Mickey would come for him. God, I'm so stupid, Ian thought, squeezing his eyes shut. So fucking dumb, stupid, worthless, pathetic, failure-

So fucking dumb, stupid, worthless, pathetic, failure- 

 

\---

This is how it feels now.

Empty.  
Blank.  
Broken.

For days, it was nothing at all. I let go of all the feelings. I had an empty, dark hole in the pit of my stomach but I managed to ignore it. I feel nothing for days, then I feel everything all at once. It's so empty. It's so dark and depressing, the only thing on my mind is death. What's the point of carrying on? What in my life has ever, ever gone right? Who have I made happy? The point of life is so precious, and I've managed to ruin dozens. Both hands tied behind my back for nothing. Trust destroyed me. Love hurt me. But he, he killed me. Whatever I had left, it's been ripped out. Now, I'm just waiting for my pain to eat me inside out.

Mickey stared at the bottles of alcohol. He wondered what was holding him back. Why wasn't he just chugging them all down? That's what he'd normally do. Maybe he wanted to feel the pain. Maybe, for once, he'd left himself be hurt.

There was chatter and laughter being thrown around the Alibi, but Mickey wasn't apart of it. Kev either didn't notice Mickey was in the bar or didn't care. All Mickey was doing was focusing on the bottles of alcohol stacked on the shelves. He stared at it. Imagine yourself, in all the pain you go through, there was now a remedy for it. A way to forget sitting right in front of you. Would you take it? You wouldn't, wouldn't you? Even if it killed you?

Mickey didn't mind if the alcohol killed him. He only stopped drinking so he could get off probation. Now that he's off, the poison sounds more inviting.

His eyes were sore from crying. He was tired. But not the sleepy type, the kind of tired that no amount of eternal sleep could ever conquer. Mickey's tenth cigarette burned in the ash tray. Hopefully he could smoke his lungs black, until he couldn't breathe.

It's just the same shit happening again and again. Fights, depression, anxiety, hate, anger outburst, cops, probation, rehab, get better, more fights and then all over again. If Mickey drank tonight he'd never stop and he knew it. He didn't want to go to prison. He couldn't be alone there.

Everybody leaves him for something. When was the last time either of his siblings gave a fuck about him? Ian left him for the army. A stupid job. He didn't seem to think twice. Just up and left. It was hard for Mickey to not feel worthless and unloved. It just felt right to know how wrong he is.

"I'm a hairstylist," he heard a girl say distantly. He turned his head and looked at her.

"You're a hairstylist?"

The lady looked at Mickey with wide eyes because of his state. His red eyes, gravelly voice, the stink of cigarettes. "Um, yeah?"

"Bleach my hair," Mickey blurted. "Blonde, red whatever. Just fucking change it."

He didn't know where this was coming from. The girl glanced at her friend wearily. "Why?"

"I don't fucking know, I want a change," Mickey spat. "Will you do it or not?"

The girl bit her lip and let out a heavy sigh.

\---

"Good morning," Fiona smiled as Ian walked downstairs. Her smile faltered a little at her brother's face and the bloodshot red and puffy eyes. Not to mention the bruise on the corner of his mouth, obviously from a punch.   
"How are you?"

"Fine," Ian grumbled. He was wearing sweatpants and a grey shirt, his hair tousled. His face was sour, a look he never wore on his face previously. Fiona was baffled.

Ian walked out of the door without another word.

\---

Mickey groaned as he rolled off his bed, his body hitting the floor. He spun over on his back, sighing deeply as the warm sun hit his face. He rolled over and patted around for something to cover his body with, freezing when his face pushed into something that smelt just like Ian. He smiled into the cloth and inhaled.

After a while he shuffled up to his feet clad in a pair of track pants and waddled to the bathroom to take a piss. His head didn't hurt, so he didn't drink, but he definitely drugged out on something last night. He was too tired to figure it out. He let out a shriek when he moved to wash his hands.

"Fuck!" He hollered, hands gripping his hair. It was perfectly blonde, all the way down to the roots. He grumbled when he remembered last night, the hairstylist. She ended up taking Mickey to her house where she dyed his hair, talked to him a little and vented about her cheating fiancé, then styled Mickey's hair and took fifty bucks from his wallet.

Even his fucking eyebrows, for God's sake. Even the eyebrows.

"What the fuck?!"

Mickey turned his head and glared at Mandy who was doubled over, laughing her ass off at Mickey's hair. He huffed and looked back at the mirror. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, shares and comments are like sex


	31. Ever Heard Of Moving On?

"The fuck did you do to your hair?"

Mickey rolled his eyes and sent a dirty look to Dean. He self-conciously ran a hand through the blonde mess. "I changed it up, that alright with you?"

"Hey, don't like at me sideways. I'm just a curious guy."

Mickey just ignored his boss and got to work on the car that was brought in yesterday, before his and Ian's fight. His stomach dropped everytime he thought about it. Mickey couldn't believe he had basically broken up with the kid. Because I don't love you...   
Mickey shook his head, not wanting to think of that right now. He took his mind off by concentrating on fixing the car and by listening to the music from the radio behind him.

"Heyo!" Dean called from his office. Mickey looked up and squinted at him in the sun. "I got three job interviews today. Any of them come in send them straight to my office."

"You got it," Mickey replied. Almost as soon as he turned around, he noticed a man walking towards the garage. He wiped his hands with a rag and squinted through the sunlight. The man came finally into view.

He had brown hair, was taller than Mickey and had pouty lips. Tattoos littered his bare arms and he held a bag in his left arm. Mickey spoke as the man approached him, "You here for an interview?"

"I'm James," the man replied, reaching his hand out to shake Mickey's. His voice was surprisingly deep and he had a thick Brooklyn accent. "I was on leave."

"Oh shit, I'm Mickey," Mickey shook his hand. "Uh, sorry about your loss."

James shook his head. "It's all good. I'm gonna head to the back and change and talk to Dean a little bit. I'll be out to take some of the work off your shoulders."

James pat Mickey's shoulder and walked to the back.

\---

Mickey was taking to the drag racer lady when James returned, full in uniform.

"...just don't drag race again," Mickey was saying as James approached him. "It's bad for you and your car."

James put a hand on the car. "Sorry to interrupt, I'll be on that car in the back. Holler if you need me."

Mickey nodded. He sent the lady off with the car, counting the cash she gave. He looked back at the rows of cars filling the garage and sighed. Dean's Garage was far more popular than Mickey had thought.

"Mickey!"

Mickey sucked in a deep breath at the sound of Fiona's voice. He didn't acknowledge her, knowing why she must be coming. Instead he popped the hood of another car and went to work on it, inspecting the engine.

Fiona jogged towards him and stood next to the car. Mickey glanced at her from the corner of his eye but said nothing. She looked confused, eying his bleached hair. "Mickey. Have you seen Ian?"

"Nah," Mickey lied smoothly, standing up straight. He wiped his hands with a rag while looking Fiona in the eye. "Hasn't come around. He back?"

"Don't bullshit me," Fiona replied, following him as he went to get a new set of tires. "Kid's a mess. What did you do to him?"

"Why is everything always my fault?" Mickey spat out, returning to the car, Fiona on his tail. "I ain't his fucking keeper."

"Didn't say you where, but for some reason everytime Ian's in shit it involves you."

"Yeah, well don't worry about me anymore. I'll be out of all your lives."

Fiona froze. "Mick, that's not what I meant."

"I don't fucking care, alright?" Mickey bit out tiredly. He met Fiona's eyes. "I'm over it. Just fuckin' let me... move on. Please."

"Did you guys... break up? Like officially?"

Mickey shrugged, looking down at the car. He rubbed a hand over his face, no doubt rubbing the grease oil on his cheek. "I said what I had to. Not my fault the kid leaves and expects me back at his feet in a second like some bitch."

"Mickey," Fiona said softly. It made Mickey's insides hurt. "Loving someone doesn't make you a bitch."

Mickey looked up at Fiona. "You think I love him?"

Fiona was taken aback. "What, you don't?"

Mickey didn't reply. Instead he turned his full attention back to the car and started detaching the tires. "Where's he now?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"Yeah, well. Bad luck for you 'cuz I got no clue."

Fiona stayed silent for a minute, watching Mickey work. The music James had put on could be heard faintly in the bag as the two listened silently, Mickey bent down replacing the tires of the car and Fiona watching. "So," Fiona sighed after a while. "What's with the hair?"

"Some girl at The Alibi dyed it for me," Mickey grumbled. He attached the tire and startling drilled it into the car. "Figured I needed a change."

"Whose that?" Fiona asked, gesturing towards James who was busily working a car. "He's cute."

"He's taken," Mickey replied

"He's taken," Mickey replied. It was kind of a lie, since he actually didn't know, but James seemed like the taken type of guy. And also because Mickey didn't want Fiona going for a guy who works with him.

Fiona sighed and put a hand on Mickey's shoulder. "So I guess what I'm asking from you is to just... stick around y'know? We really do like having you around, Mickey."

Mickey didn't reply. Fiona took it as the chance to add one another thing. "By the way, Liam won't shut up about you. He really want to hang out with Mickey again."

That made Mickey smile a little. Fiona walked away, leaving the garage.

It was later, when Mickey was on the couch with a coke can in his hand that Mandy spoke to him. They hadn't had much time for each other the past few weeks, what with Mandy and her relationship with Lip that was extremely on the down low, Mickey being one of the only people aware of the relationship. Mandy dropped down on the couch next to her brother, leaving the a space between them. She eyed the television, getting lost in the Law and Order episode before remembering she was here for Ian.

"You seen Ian?" She asked, getting right to the point. Mickey didn't seem surprised. He just grunted. "How was he? I haven't seen him yet. Fiona said he hasn't been home since this morning."

Mickey didn't say anything, but Mandy wasn't an idiot. She could see guilt literally oozing off of her older brother. She wanted to know what Mickey had said to Ian. "I don't fucking know, I haven't seen him either."

Mandy raised her eyebrows. "Oh. He didn't come around at all?"

"He came to the garage yesterday but-"

Mandy looked at her watch, which cut Mickey off. He squinted his eyes at the sparkly gold watch. "Where'd you get that?"

Mandy looked up at Mickey and shrugged. "Lip and I been up to a few things here and there."

Mickey felt a surge of jealousy run through him. That was him and Ian who would do crazy shit like that, robbing expensive things and wearing them proudly the next day. Lip and Mandy were just some low class copy of his relationship with Ian. He shook his head sadly. Jesus, why is he saying these things? He just misses what he had with Ian.

"Suit up," Mandy said as she stood up, patting Mickey's arm. Mickey furrowed his eyebrows.

"Do I look like fucking Captain America to you? What the fuck do you mean 'suit up'?"

"We gotta go," Mandy gaped at Mickey when she realized he didn't know. "Oh my god. Do you actually not know what I'm talking about?"

"No."

"Sebastian? Childhood friend? Sells you guns? Ringin' any bells yet?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Yeah, what about him?"

"He's getting married today, in like two hours. I can't believe you didn't know."

Mickey's eyebrows shot up. "No shit, to who?"

"A girl he's been dating for like three years, apparently. How did you not know?"

"I don't know? Nobody ever told me I guess."

"Well, you going or not?"

"That's my best fuckin' friend, of course I'm going."

Mickey was all dressed in a suit he found deep in his closet, and Mandy was wearing a casual black dress, hair and makeup done. They were waiting for Lip to reach their house, since they'd all take the L together. The kid showed up twenty minutes late.

"You should've taken all fucking night," Mickey complained sarcastically as Lip kissed Mandy on the cheek, apologizing for his tardiness.

"Nice to see you too, Mickey," Lip replied, eying Mickey's hair. "You look good."

Mickey turned his head and glared at the boy, parting his hair to the right in the mirror with gel.

Soon enough the three arrived to the shitty reception hall, Mickey left to fend off the crappy food while Mandy and Lip got lost in each other's eyes on the dance floor

Soon enough the three arrived to the shitty reception hall, Mickey left to fend off the crappy food while Mandy and Lip got lost in each other's eyes on the dance floor. They'd been at the wedding a good hour, the bride still not having come out yet. Mickey was tried and frankly, a little bored.

He picked at his plate of food, finally giving up and instead taking his cigarettes out. Mandy had advised him about the strict 'no smoking' rule in the hall earlier, but fuck it. If Mickey started listening to whatever the fuck Mandy was saying then he would he a completely different person.

He was in the back of the hall anyway, nobody should notice. He lit the cigarette and smoked away, the smoke mixing in with the dimmed lights. It was relaxing. The couples were now dancing on the floor, Sebastian gleaming. For some reason the vows would he exchanged later on, when the fucking bride decided to show. Mickey still didn't even know who she is.

Mickey was surprised to see that Jamie had showed. He didn't look half bad in his suit, the kid actually classed himself up. The biggest surprise was the prosthetic eye replacing the hole that was once Jamie's left eye. Jamie walked up to Mandy, exchanging a few words before looking around and noticing Mickey. He walked up to his younger brother with a grin.

"What's up Mickey?" Jamie asked, sliding into the booth. Mickey tapped the ash off his cigarette.

"Fixed your eye, huh?" Mickey replied. Jamie shrugged.

"Was inspired. There's a lotta people with prosthetic eyes and arms and all that's shit. It's pretty cool. Ever heard of Fetty Wap?"

Mickey didn't respond. Instead he stubbed the butt of his cigarette on the table and sighed. The two brothers sat in silence for a while.

"Colin's here too, and Iggy," Jamie said after a while. He paused before adding, "saw your lover too. He's in the back, I think he knows you're here. That's why he's keeping distance. You talked to him yet?"

"Broke it off," Mickey replied roughly. Jamie seemed surprised.

"The army huh?" Mickey gave his brother a look. "Fiona told me a little. He left you for the army."

"Whatever." Jamie's words stabbed Mickey like a knife. He left you for the army.

Jamie must've sensed the discomfort because he quickly covered his words up. "Real asshole move of the guy. Never trusted that firetruck fuck."

That lightened Mickey up a little. He snorted and pushed at his brother.

"Boys."

Mickey and Jamie both looked up surprisedly at Colin who slid in on Mickey's other side. He put a hand on Mickey's shoulder comfortably. "Hey Mickey. How are you?"

Mickey shrugged. "Fine."

Colin gave a look to Jamie and in a few seconds Jamie was gone, off to the dance floor. Mickey looked at his eldest brother questionably.

"I talked to Ian," Colin started. Mickey's eyes widened. "Gave him a a nice earful. But I'm willing to let him have another chance with you. Are you?"

"No," Mickey grumbled. "Fuck Colin- I don't know if I can even trust him anymore."

"That's okay," Colin replied. "Mickey, trust is something you need to build. Buildings get broken down sometimes, but they can still be rebuilt. Ian's a good kid. He fucked up, he really did, but you gotta hear the kid out. I only want what's best for you Mick, and you were real happy with that guy whether you admit it or not."

"Somehow it's only my ass whose gotta fix everything," Mickey sighed as he stood up. "I'll clear things up with him. But that don't mean we gonna be together or anything."

Colin gave Mickey a look too smug for the youngster's liking. Rolling his eyes, Mickey went out back, where Jamie had said he'd seen Ian. The metal door shut loudly behind Mickey as he entered the cool, crisp weather, shivering a little. He looked side to side through the dark alley, squinting his eyes to notice the gray smoke floating in the air from beside a dumpster. He began walking slowly towards the person, stopping a few feet ahead when he saw Ian.

Ian was leaning against the wall next to the dumpster, smoking away. He had a snap back on his head, twisted backwards. A light stubble dotted his face. His eyes were casted towards the concrete and his leg was bent against the wall, but Mickey knew the redhead was aware of his presence. Ian exhaled smoke as he spoke. "You know what alley this is?"

His throat sounded sore and gravely. Mickey cringed at the amount of cigarette butts by his feet. Mickey cleared his throat and looked around. "Uh, no?"

"The one you got stabbed in," Ian replied in a low, quiet voice. Mickey barely heard it. He looked up at Mickey, his right foot coming down as he pushed himself off the wall and walked towards Mickey. "Do you wanna know where I really went?"

Mickey hadn't noticed that this was his nightmare alley. He looked around, it was too dark for him to recognize it. But Ian was right, Mickey felt a deja vu sort of feeling as he stood there. Mickey narrowed his eyes at Ian's casual outfit. It was nice. There was class to it. Nothing Ian wore before. He was wearing a fucking jean jacket for crying out loud. Mickey's attention went back to Ian when the red head flicked his cigarette to the floor. "Of course I wanna fucking know."

Ian swallowed and basically pressed himself up against Mickey, looking down at him

Ian swallowed and basically pressed himself up against Mickey, looking down at him. His eyes flicked around nervously. Mickey looked up at Ian with intensity, his fists clenching. Don't try nothing. Ian shoved his hands in his own pockets. "I left the army a month after being in there. It just wasn't right without you."

Mickey's gaze softened. His fists were still clenched. Ian continued. "After I left the army I did a little digging. I set out to find Kash. The asshole who did that to you."

Ian put his hand on Mickey's abdomen, right above his scar as if he'd memorized where it was. Mickey's eyes flickered to Ian's chest. He couldn't look at him, or else he'd end up right back at the red head's feet.

"I found Kash, Mick."

Mickey looked at Ian with surprise. "Where?"

Ian's hand didn't move. "With your mom."

Mickey furrowed his eyebrows. "She's alive?"

"Colin never said he had killed her, did he?" Mickey shook his head. "Because he didn't. Kash and Maria were still alive. I..."

Mickey could tell from Ian's face something was wrong. He immediately toughened up. "What? You what, Ian?"

"I killed Kash," Ian replied in the smallest voice Mickey had ever heard. Mickey froze. Ian's eyes were red, even in the dark light Mickey could see the tears rolling down Ian's face. Ian's hand came up to fiddle with Mickey's tie. "I-I killed him."

"You killed Kash?" Mickey whispered sharply, his hand gripping Ian's wrist. Ian met Mickey's eyes. "How?"

"I just... I saw him and I couldn't help myself," Ian sniffled, eyes hardening. "After what he did to you, I knew he had to go one way or another..."

"And Maria?"

Ian gulped. "She caught me. She watched me kill him, in the field. Then she helped me bury him. We didn't say a word to each other, but when we finished she told me to take care of you and then she left."

"Where?"

"I don't know."

Mickey couldn't believe his ears. "But Kash... how-"

"I texted him, not expecting a reply. I told him to meet me in the field and being that he was still fucking in love with me or something, he came. I had a gun- your gun Mickey. Your pistol, with the MM carved into the side. I carved IG on the other side, I hope you don't mind..."

Mickey looked at Ian in disbelief. "My gun? Where is it? Did you leave it there?"

"No, I have it, at home."

"Are the cops on your ass?"

"Linda probably called them by now, unless she's used to her husband disappearing for weeks."

"Fuck, Ian," Mickey croaked out, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He moved away from Ian and turned his back to the boy, looking at the star lit sky

He moved away from Ian and turned his back to the boy, looking at the star lit sky. He swallowed his tears away. When he turned back, Ian had tears streaming down his red face.

"I'm sorry Mick, I really am," Ian whispered into the dark night. Mickey didn't want to hear it. "I know I'm a fuck up, alright? I can't imagine what I put you through but... it was for you, okay? All of it, was for you."

"You killed someone for me," Mickey scoffed. "That supposed to be romantic?"

"Please don't leave me, Mick. Please don't," Ian begged. "I can't do this without you... please."

"Ian, I-" Mickey sighed, already feeling tears prick his eyes again. "Why do you have to make everything so fucking hard?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking stupid and I fucked up and I ruined your life and I am sorry. Let me make it up to you. Please, just... I'm sorry."

"Whatever, I forgive you-"

"No, Mickey don't do that!" Ian cried out loudly. Mickey was stunned. "Don't forgive me! I fucked up!"

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Gallagher?!" Mickey shouted back. "You're begging me for what? What?!"   
Ian croaked, "another chance. Just one more chance with you."

"You are too much for me, Ian," Mickey shook his head, turning around and walking back towards the door exasperatedly. "You fucking asshole."

"Did you mean it?"

Mickey turned around. "Mean what?"

"You said you didn't love me," Ian's chin was up, fighting tears. "Did you really mean it?"

Mickey looked at the ground, then back up at Ian. "I did once."

"You did once?"

"I loved you, once. Then you left. You took my love with you."

"Mickey don't go."

"I'm doing good now," Mickey said. "I'm done drinking, I'm done fighting. You hear about the bar fight in the Alibi? I knocked the guy out so hard he ended up in the hospital. That's when I crossed the line. I fixed myself, Ian. I got a job, and I got my family back. Good shit happened to me when you left. Why is that?"

Ian didn't reply. Mickey continued.

"Because I started to focus. No distractions. I didn't need that pain anymore, the falling in love bullshit pain. I was good without it. Maybe Ian... we gotta just, stay friends or whatever."

"Friends?" Ian asked.

"Yeah," Mickey replied, a small smile at his lips. "Friends. We can do that."

"Okay," Ian replied quietly. Mickey pitied his look of sadness. He walked towards Ian and put a hand on the back of the boy's neck, pulling the red head down. He kissed Ian's forehead, letting his lips linger way longer than they needed to. He heard Ian let out a sharp intake of breath, before relaxing in Mickey's hold completely. Ian smiled when Mickey pulled away. "Thanks. Love the hair, by the way."

Mickey groaned, feeling self conscious about his hair again. He ran a hand through it. "Fuck off. I gotta keep washing it until the colour fades."

"It's cute." Mickey snorted, pushing Ian lightly. Ian laughed and put his hands on Mickey's head, massaging his scalp. Mickey almost moaned, he missed the feeling of Ian's hands. In all honesty, his pants tightened a little at the feeling. "You're beautiful, Mickey."

"The hair isn't."

"Everything about you is perfect. You're gorgeous, from your tallest hair to your longest toe. You're amazing."

Mickey looked up at Ian and smiled. "You too, Ian."

They should've kissed, but the word "friend" blared in both boy's ears. Ian moved his hands and pulled his phone out. "Smile, Milkovich."

 

The two boys reentered the reception hall, both wondering how long they could hold each other off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos shares and comments are gallavich kisses


	32. I Saved You (fuck off, casey)

"Mickey."

Mickey peered up at James while chugging down a cold bottle of water, feeling drops run down his chin and disappear under his dirty tanktop. He let out a content sigh once he replenished his thirst and twisted the cap back on the bottle. James watched him. "What's up?"

"In pulling out for an hour, think you could cover for me?" James asked, a cigarette between his lips.

Mickey squinted at the few cars lined up. "Sure, why not. You headed somewhere specific?"

James exhaled the smoke from his mouth and gave Mickey an amused look. "Nope. Nowhere special."

"Bullshitting on the job, huh?" Mickey asked, making James laugh

"Bullshitting on the job, huh?" Mickey asked, making James laugh.

"With a job like this, who wouldn't?"

"So the family death was bullshit too, then?"

James's face lost emotion, his eyebrows dropping and eyelids becoming more hooded than before. He looked down at the ground and swallowed, flicking the cigarette to the concrete. "No, it wasn't."

His voice sounded just as petulant as he looked. Mickey's throat went dry, mentally hitting himself. "Oh- shit, man... I'm sorry. I'm a fucking idiot, just ignore me seriously-"

"It's okay," James interrupted, clearing his throat. He stood up and pulled his uniform over his bare arms, buttoning it up over his tank top that matched Mickey's. "Dean's inside taking interviews. I'll be back later."

Mickey cursed under his breath as James walked away, a feeling of guilt creeping up his spine. Mickey and his big fucking mouth. "James!"

James turned around slowly and stood silently. He motioned with his hands, what?

"If you uh, ever need to talk," Mickey advised awkwardly. "Like, for advice or something or just to vent. I'm here."

James nodded, not looking directly at Mickey. He shoved his tattooed hands in his uniform pockets and walked away. Mickey watched as he left, still a little raw from the previous situation.

"Mickey Milkovich."

Mickey turned his head, raising an eyebrow at the dirty, disheveled kids before him. One held a baseball bat in his hand and the two others held pocket knives and clenched fists. He glanced up at the kid who spoke with an uninterested look. "The fuck do you want?"

"You don't remember me?" The kid asked with fake innocence. His friends chuckled.

"Lotta dirty faces around here, but let me try and see if I can remember all your names," Mickey pretended to think for a second before pointing at the kid with the baseball bat. "You must be Jackass. How could I forget you?" He moved down the line. "You must be Twat, and you're Assbreath. The famous trio."

All three boys grit their teeth and held tightly onto their weapons. "Very fucking funny, Milkovich. I see you changed up your look, you look like more of a bitch than you did before."

Mickey straightened his back and ran his tongue over his teeth, sucking in a deep breath. With one single movement he sucker punched, what was it? Assbreath? In the face sending him to the ground in seconds. Mickey had a hand around the baseball bat before Jackass could swing and used it to hit the knife out of Twat's hand, then rammed the wood into Twat's knees, sending him next to the groaning mess on the floor. Jackass was last to the ground with the baseball bat right to his nose.

Mickey breathed harshly before kicking Assbreath in the stomach aggressively, then dropping the baseball bat on his curled up body. "Next time you pieces of shit decide to fuck with someone, choose somebody more your type. I'm Mickey fucking Milkovich, bitches. Do not try to fuck with me."

"Faggot," one of the boys, probably Assbreath, mumbled. Mickey felt a burning rage race through him. He ran both hands through his growing hair, pushing it back.

"That I am, boys," he replied, walking away. "That I am."

-

-

-

Sometimes, people can go crazy when something they love is taken away from them.

Ian was now realizing this.

Whenever he thought of Kash, of the blood on his hands, of Maria helping him, he didn't feel guilt. He felt crazy. Who does something like that? He tried to convince himself that it was just the moment, just the situation he was in that forced him to murder Kash.   
After all, Kash did try to take away the most important person in Ian's life.

Maybe Ian should see a doctor or something. Because ever since last night, after the wedding and Mickey declaring that they should both just be friends, Ian couldn't stop thinking about Mickey. It's nothing surprising really, since he always thinks of Mickey, but now he's literally the only thing on the red head's mind.

That's how Ian ended up here.

"So, how are you feeling, Ian?"

Ian looked up at Anthony, the group councilor. It was Ian's first day in group therapy and he wasn't regretting it yet, but he also wasn't enjoying it. Being put on the spot, sharing thoughts- he can barely do that with his own siblings.

"I feel OK," Ian replied nonetheless. "For the most part."

"Is there something bothering you? Something that you'd like to talk about and share?"

"Just a breakup, really," Ian mumbled, fidgeting slightly. "I fucked up and lost everything."

Anthony cocked his head. Everybody stared at Ian. "How did you mess up?"

Ian's mouth was dry. "I, um... took off. Ran away. Disappeared for too long. By the time I got back, he was over it. Over me. I can tell he doesn't feel what I still feel anymore. But I can also tell he's fighting off any feelings he has left for me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"It's his eyes, they've always said everything his mouth couldn't. Everytime I needed an answer I would just look in his eyes. They never failed to express his emotions."

"And what exactly do you see in his eyes when you're around him?"

Ian thought for a moment, eyes on the ground. "Guilt. Regret. Sadness. I can see that he craves a love he feels doesn't exist with me. I wish I knew how to tell him that it does."

"You could just tell him," another person suggested. "You could convince him."

"I can tell that when I left I took all his love and sympathy with me. He said he's done better without me. I feel as if I'm holding him off from better things. Do you know what I mean?"

"We understand, Ian. Tell me, what better things could you be holding him off from?"

Ian sighed heavily. "I don't know... a better job? A relationship? A family?"

"If you really love him as much as it sounds like you do, why did you leave him?" A guy asked. Ian glanced at the name tag on his shirt. Casey.

"For a job that I wanted my whole life," Ian replied with a small voice. "I guess it was either him or the job. I let my ambition get the best of me."

"Couldn't he go with you to your job?"

Ian shook his head. "No. He didn't like my choice of employment. He couldn't commit to not seeing me for months, maybe longer."

"Would you like to tell us what job this is?"

Ian decided fuck it, why not tell them? "Military."

"Dude what the fuck?" Casey snorted. "Imagine the shit you put your boyfriend through, making him choose a decision like that."

"Him? What about me? I feel like a fucking failure giving up on my dreams for a relationship."

"We're starting to get somewhere, Ian. You had to choose between ambition or love. You chose love because you came back. Do you feel you made the right decision?"

Ian sighed and thought for a minute. "Honestly, no. Mickey doesn't want me anymore. He don't need me. He's said it and I can feel it."

There were a few whispers scattered around. Ian looked around at them, confused. Casey stared right at Ian with big eyes. "Mickey? Did you say Mickey?"

"Uh, yeah," Ian replied awkwardly. He looked at Anthony for help. "Mickey is- was my boyfriend."

"Alright, let's settle down," Anthony said loudly, cutting off the quiet voices. "Ian, Mickey was with us for one session because of probation requirements. That's how we know him."

"He was?" Ian asked, surprised.

"Yeah, after he went batshit insane, beating a guy almost to death at the Alibi." Casey crossed his arms. "That your fault too?"

"Who the fuck are you exactly?" Ian spat, standing up. Casey stood up too.

"A friend of Mickey's," Casey replied with a snark look. "That bother you?"

"Sit down. Both of you," Anthony instructed, authority in his voice. Ian glared as hard as he could at Casey before sitting down in his seat. Casey sat down as well, eyes still on Ian. Ian looked to the side, his leg bouncing agitatedly.

-

-  
-

"M-Mickey?"

Mickey glanced up at Ian who had just entered the Gallagher house, just returning from the group council meeting. The red head's eyes widened as he watched Mickey toy around with Liam. "Hey, Gallagher. Where you been?"

Mickey was obviously trying to make himself sound as if he was uninterested, as if he didn't give a single fuck about wherever Ian's been or whatever he's been doing. But Ian could see right through those blue eyes. Mickey will never stop being the protective little shit Ian knows he is. "Ah, nowhere. Here and there, meeting with old friends. Why you here?"

"Just got off work, thought I'd give Liam a visit," Mickey chuckled as he threw an action figure at Liam, averting the little boy's attention from the TV. Liam turned his head and smiled at Ian before snapping his head back towards the TV like a squirrel. Ian laughed, his heart warming up. 

Just for a second, a sight like this: Mickey with their own child, watching TV, both happy to see Ian home. They'd all watch together, Mickey and Ian sharing loving touches and moments with their child/children. It was so overwhelming to Ian that he craved it so much.

"Anyway," Ian cleared his throat, sitting down on the couch near Mickey- not next to him, but near him- and resisted kissing those cute lips. "You know a guy named Casey?"

Mickey's eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

"Is that a yes?"

Mickey rolled his eyes and slumped back on the couch. "What, you stalking me now, Gallagher?" 

Ian cringed at the name Mickey gave him. He liked it when Mickey called him Ian, he would say it more lovingly. Gallagher sounded rough, annoyed. It made Ian feel small and just... unwanted. "No. Just bumped into this guy, said his name was Casey. You came up while we were talking and he said he knew you."

"Well yeah, I know him," Mickey finally replied.

Ian swallowed heavily. "You just friends?"

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose and gave Ian a tired look. "C'mon man, we talked about this. Me and you, we're just friends. Whatever I'm doing with Casey don't matter to you."

"It matters a lot to me," Ian couldn't help the little crack in his voice. "You'll never be able to have what we had with anyone else but me."

"Who says I'm fucking looking for what we had?" Mickey spat venomously, eyes piercing. "Last time I checked, I'm not looking for another guy to run out on me."

"Fuck you, Mickey, you didn't even let me explain why I left."

"I don't wanna hear it, Gallagher. You're real goddamn blessed in the bullshit department."

"You know what, Mick. You, with your problems and your fucked up daddy issues, nobody is going to accept you like I did. I saved you. I gave you a place to stay when you had nowhere to go. I did my best to keep you and your siblings safe in my house, putting my family in danger. I let myself be shot for you. I was kidnapped for you. I killed someone for you. I gave up on all my dreams and ambitions for you. If all you're gonna judge me for is running away, then maybe you gotta think of the good things over the one bad thing that I did. Because I did so, so fucking much, Mickey. All out of love."

Ian took a deep breath, not letting his tears fall from his eyes. "And for some fucking reason, you can't even say you love me."

"I-" Mickey croaked as Ian stood up, heading to the door again. "I do."

"No you don't," Ian replied sourly, hand on the doorknob. "You don't love me until you can say it."

Mickey covered his mouth with his hand as the door slammed shut, hiding his pathetic whimper from escaping his mouth. Liam looked at him with pouty eyes, no doubt hearing the whole conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos shares and comments are like mickeys butt


	33. When Ian Met Mickey

When Ian met Mickey, it was at a very bad time. Mickey had just seen his mother for the first time after believing she was dead for the last 10 years. No doubt the boy was distraught and overwhelmed.

When Ian met Mickey, he was heartbroken. Ian always had a soft spot for the broken ones, because he could see himself in them. But with Mickey, Ian didn't really see himself. Instead he saw so much more than that. He saw chance, future, hope. Ian could never say that for himself.

Ian helped Mickey. He gave him a lot to be of use to the black haired boy. He wanted to see Mickey grow into a better person, and maybe if he was extremely lucky, he could be apart of Mickey's better life.

When Ian met Mickey, he never imagined a relationship as powerful as theirs. He never imagined that he could be so in love. Especially with a guy like Mickey, of all people.

When Ian met Mickey, he knew there would be one day where it would all go to shit. What he didn't know, was that it would he his fault.

Now, as Ian sits on the porch of the Gallagher house, just minutes after storming out on Mickey, the moon appearing in the sky, Ian realized he wishes he'd never met Mickey.

"I'm gonna ask one thing from you, Ian," Mickey had said once, pressed up against Ian late at night, just after the boys had made up after a fight.

Ian exhaled the smoke from the cigarette into the air. "Yeah?"

Mickey turned his head sideways onto Ian's chest and breathed in, eyes closing slowly. "Don't go crazy on me, alright? Just don't... lose your shit. I need one sane person in my life."

When Ian met Mickey, he felt like the most sane person around. Now, as Ian stared at the moon with tears blinding his eyes, he feels like the craziest person alive.

Murderer. Murderer.

Ian dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to shut that voice out of his head. Murdering someone was a bigger deal than he thought. He couldn't stop thinking about it. About Linda, about Kash's now fatherless children- it ate away at him. But he did it for Mickey. Mickey was supposed to be worth it.

Mickey didn't even acknowledge it. Ian should've known better than to think Mickey would care. And Maria... she was right.

"You run out on a Milkovich like that, they don't forgive you easy," she had said while shoveling dirt on top of Kash's dead corpse. Ian stopped shoveling and looked at her. Maria glanced up at him wearily. "Trust me, I would know."

Ian wouldn't say he had bonded with Maria, but in a way, he got a better sense of her. Even when Ian had asked why are you helping me? She replied because you're family now.

To Maria, possibly the most protective Milkovich, Ian was considered family. Their family. That meant a lot to Ian. He might've expected those words from Mickey, hell, maybe even Colin, but not Maria.

Out of all the Milkovich kids, Colin was the most alike to Maria. Confident, strong and protective. Maybe he wasn't as crazy as his mother turned out to be, but Ian believed that there must have been a time when they both saw eye to eye on something.

When Ian met Mickey, he never imagined that this is what it would come to.

Ian begging for Mickey back, Mickey rejecting him... Jesus, who would've thought Mickey could actually find another guy for himself? Since when did Mickey become comfortable with being gay? When Ian left?

It was driving Ian insane with heartbreak. He wanted to desperately know what Mickey had been up to since he left. Mickey got a job, something Ian never thought could happen. Not that Ian didn't have faith or belief in Mickey, but because he never thought Mickey could commit to it. But the one thing that surprised Ian the most, was the fact that Mickey had let go of drinking. The last, last thing Ian ever would've thought Mickey could do was let go of alcohol.

When Ian met Mickey, he knew he'd never be able to move on.

Which is why Ian sat here, right now, on the porch of his own house more lost than ever before.

"Are you fucking deaf?"

Ian snapped back into reality, eyes blinking as he looked up at Jamie Milkovich. "Oh, hey James. How long have you been there?"

Jamie scoffed and shook his head, sitting down next to Ian on the porch. He took a box out with a marijuana leaf on the cover and rolled himself a joint. "Asked you where Mickey was like 37 times. What's wrong with you?"

"He's inside," Ian replied quietly. Jamie just stared at him. "I don't what's wrong with me, I'm just tired."

"I've heard that enough times out of Mickey's mouth to know that's bullshit," Jamie chuckled a little. Ian gave him a sideways smile, which made Jamie's heart hurt a little.

Jamie hated seeing Ian like this, even though he'd never say it aloud. Honestly, when Ian left Mickey at the worst time he hated the red bitch, but now he's started to lighten up to the kid again. Ian has been through a lot of shit because of Mickey, shit that can't be forgotten. "What's going on with you two?"

"I don't know," Ian sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "He says we're just friends."

"Mickey? Just friends with a guy like you?" Jamie snorted. "Even Iggy could sense the bullshit in something like that."

Ian laughed a little. "Really? You think I still got a chance with him?"

"You two are like an old married couple, trust me. You bicker and fight all the time, then fuck so much kids at the end of the street are talking about it."

"Your brother does have a very sexual bone-"

Ian was cut off when Jamie's hand met the back of his head. "Fuck off. I don't need to hear that about my brother."

They sat in silence for a while, passing the blunt back and forth.

"What's your love life like?" Ian asked eventually. Jamie shrugged.

"Got a girl up in New York, go down there few times a week when I can to see her."

"What's her name?"

Jamie smiled down at his feet, eyes sparkling. Ian guessed nobody asked him about this girl before. "Alessia. She's perfect."

"What she look like?" Ian was intrigued.

Jamie let out a breath and looked at the sky. "Beautiful, man. So damn pretty, like the way flowers sway in the wind on a nice summer day? That's what she's like. Calm, soft and light. I never thought I could fall in love, never thought I could commit but I was wrong. I just didn't have the right girl before, but Alessia... I've commit to her for years. Yeah, I fucked up here and there, but in the end she's always got my everything."

Jamie looked at Ian seriously. "Second chances exist, Ian. Take it from me. I would know. You just gotta fight for it."

Ian inhaled deeply and looked up at the starry sky, loosing himself in the moonlight.

\--

"Colin?"

Colin looked up at Fiona, eyes wide. The two stood in the living room, Jamie slumped on the couch and half of Ian's body in Colin's arms as the blonde boy put the red head on the single chair in the room. "I found these two dead asleep on the porch. Figured I'd bring them inside."

Fiona smiled adoringly. No matter how old his younger siblings might get, Colin would always be first to tuck them in, hug them, remind them they're special. It made Fiona's heart warm. It made sense though, since Colin missed a good 11 years of this since he was in prison. "You're a good brother, Colin."

"I better be," Colin laughed as he dumped the rest of Ian's sleeping body on the chair. He looked at Fiona with a small grin.

Fiona grinned back. "I know it's late, but do you want a coffee? Maybe a beer?"

"Coffee sounds good."

The two traveled to the kitchen where Colin got comfortable at the table as Fiona made the coffee. They didn't say much, but there was still a comfortable silence around them. After a few minutes Fiona put down a mug of coffee in front of Colin, sitting on the chair next to him.

"We're really alike, huh?" Colin chuckled softly as he blew over his coffee. Fiona nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"We really are," she replied. "We take care of our siblings, love them-"

"We forgot about ourselves sometimes too, huh?"

That caught Fiona off guard, but Colin was right. She didn't meet Colin's eyes, instead she sipped her coffee and gave a quiet nod. Colin leaned forward, his hand softly resting upon Fiona's other. "Do you forget about yourself sometimes, Fiona?"

"It happens," Fiona croaked in reply.

"It happens to me too," Colin replied truthfully. "I love them too much. I lost 11 years without them, lately everything I've been doing is for them."

"That's what I've been doing my whole life," Fiona laughed softly. She looked Colin in the eye. "I know how you feel. It's harder than they think."

"We're the parents now."

"We always have been."

Colin glanced at Fiona, hesitating. There was a sweet moment, where both of them just looked each other in the eye, basking in one another's attention. But neither of them made a move. After a minute, Colin laughed quietly. "I have a great idea."

-

"What if he wakes up?" Fiona whispered with a big smile on her face. Colin shushed her and threw Ian over his shoulder carefully.

"If we keep quiet, he'll never know this happened," Colin replied just as quietly, a cheeky grin on his own face. Fiona giggled and hurried upstairs, opening the door to Ian's room.

"He's asleep."

Colin peeked in the room, biting his lip to stifle his laugh when he saw Mickey sound asleep on the bed, alone. He carefully set Ian down next to Mickey, stepping back as he watched what would happen. Both Fiona and Colin prayed neither boy woke.

After a minute of stirring, Ian unconsciously felt Mickey's body next to him and pulled him in, spooning the currently dirty-blonde haired boy. Mickey reacted instantly, gripping Ian's arm as he snored softly. Fiona pulled on Colin's elbow, urging them to both leave. Colin nodded and followed Fiona out of the room, turning his head to smile adoringly at the pair. "You're welcome, Mickey."

As Colin shut the door behind him, Mickey blinked his eyes open, turning around in Ian's body and breathing in the boy's scent. His eyes watered with how much he missed this position. Mickey gripped onto Ian as if he could slip away, and even though he was sound asleep, Ian pressed his lips to Mickey's hair and kept them there.

Mickey couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes as he silently cried into his lover's chest.

When Mickey met Ian, he knew the firecrotch was the love he'd been waiting for all his life.

When Mickey met Ian, he knew he'd always go crawling back, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos shares and comments will bring the next chapter hahahahhaah


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